Nightmare
by TheLovelyJudy
Summary: Before the monster ruined everything: Annabeth was wild, beautiful, creative, and free-spirited. She was a day dreamer who loved vanilla coke and motown music. But five years of horrific abuse have transformed her into a timid, fearful, and self-loathing woman. Now that Alex is back for her, Anna must find that long lost inner strength in order to survive. (The Wolf & The Lamb)
1. SCARED

**The Wolf & The Lamb**

::ONE::

_I am scared. I am so scared. Make him stop. Make him leave me alone. Make him go away, please. Somebody. Anybody. Help me help me help me I can't take this anymore. It hurts. It burns. I can't breathe. I can smell him. Sweat. Power. Blood. No! No! __**NO!**_

…She wakes up choking for air, a scream ripping at her throat but unable to escape. But then it rips it's claws through her jugular and flows into the air jagged and ugly and desperate for someone to rescue her from _him_ from the memory of him. Her eyes burned with tears and she hugged her comforter to herself, _I am twenty-two years old damn it. I'm not sixteen anymore, Alex is dead. He is dead and he can't hurt me anymore. _

She tells herself, but it does nothing to ease her anxiety. The phone rings, too loud for her liking but she doesn't dare answer it. Her blinds are closed, always closed and she works from home. She hates going outside, hates interacting with people. She knows that they want to hurt her, she knows that the world is a horrible dangerous place. She is scared, she is always scared of everything and everyone. Annabeth can't bear more pain in her life, she's too exhausted and fragile.

Her only comfort is her grey and black kitten, who she affectionately calls "Baby". Alex is dead, they executed him that's what she saw on the news so it must be true, there's no reason to be afraid anymore. She contemplates maybe going to a club an-_no, absolutely not. Never trust anyone, always expect the worse, don't go outside, don't talk to anyone, they'll hurt you and even if they are nice people they'll hate you because they can tell you're tainted and ruined and ugly inside_.

She closes her eyes and climbs out of bed, her kitten mewling dramatically as if she hasn't been in feed in centuries or something. "Hold on little miss drama queen" she teases in a sweet voice as the kitten rubs herself on her legs, purring loudly. She gives her some dry food and fresh water and strokes her soft back as she noisily consumes her meal. She opens the fridge and sees that her food supply is limited, and feels her anxiety crawl up her spine. Grocery Shopping.

Annabeth quickly gets dressed.

Modest, dull colors as usual. Her hair is in her face, she's chewing on her nails and biting the skin around them in her anxiety and nervousness. She wishes she wasn't always so nervous, it's just a trip to the grocery store for Christ's sake. Nothing is going to happen, nobody is going to hurt her. "Good morning dear" someone says, it's Ms. Norbury from the apartment next door. Annabeth actually really likes her, she has two cats named Cleopatra and Emerald, always bakes her coconut cream pie on special holidays, and wears sparkly scarves and wears Chanel no. 5 even on the weekdays.

When she doesn't wear her perfume she smells like coffee. Her nails are always painted red, Annabeth's nails are chewed up and void of color and it's another reason to hate herself. Ms. Norbury reminds her of Bette Davis, and it's obvious that she was a knock out in her youth. She sometimes invites Annabeth over for dinner, but she always makes some excuse. She doesn't deserve to be in the presence of someone like Ms. Norbury for too long a time. "Good morning" she says politely and quickly, hurrying to the elevator. She walks to Bently's Whole Foods, she won't take a taxi. She buys what she needs and hurries to pay so she can get out and go back home where it is safe.

These memories or flashbacks if you will don't hit her every second of every day, the fear is constant yes but not the memories. When they do hit, they hit her like a train going a thousand miles per second. They make her slid down the wall of her bedroom, choking on her own sobs and shaking violently as her head thumps against the wall in a futile attempt to make the horrid images and sounds stop. Her kitten cuddles up to her in a comforting way but she can't find the strength to pet her.

And now she's crying out and it's not just in her head, it's filling the entire world. **"Please, No!"** she shrieks, her throat burns from the force and she's in a fetal position on the floor. She can hear his voice, smell his breath, feel him on top of her; his skin on hers, fingernails, and her throat is closing and she cannot breathe. She gasps for air and is thankful as it slowly returns and the horror ebbs away.

Another flashback survived.

Annabeth often lets Baby roam the hallways, everybody on this floor is nice and keeps to themselves. And Baby is a good girl, she doesn't go where—well, she probably does get into mischief but she always comes home. Annabeth feels bad that her apartment is so small, baby is so full of energy.

She turns on the television, and there's that documentary that they made about him playing. They made it last week after his execution, and tried to reach her but she refused to answer their calls and heartless questions. She turns off the tv and decides to make herself some semi-late breakfast. Alex was twenty-six when he was executed, he'd been in that jail since he was twenty four. And she had been free from his reign of terror since the age of twenty. Except, she doesn't feel free.

And nobody understood, they didn't want to and she pushed those away who tried to. Her father had married Caroline Burgess when Annabeth was sixteen and Alex twenty, there was no room for four people and Alex had his own apartment, so Annabeth was to live with him. She'd suggested it herself, at that time she still believed that people were generally good and kind. She saw no reason to not trust people, and she thought Alex was charming and intelligent. She thought they could be friends, maybe even best friends. But he made her life _**miserable.**_

Annabeth fought back at first, defied him, refused and rebelled but he broke her down. He destroyed something precious inside of her, snuffed out the flame and broke her wings. Her wings were still torn up and tattered, she was still scared, still broken. And it didn't matter how such thread/glue/tape she used. Alex was still embedded like a plague into her mind, tainting her view of a world once full of possibilities and beauty. Five years, that's how long she was under his reign of agony.

_It's okay, sweetie, he's dead. You're okay now. _She hugs herself tightly, offering herself words of comfort. There is a knock on her door, she freezes eyes wide and heart pounding. But she looks through the peep hole and sees nobody, Annabeth slowly opens the door, looks down and lets out a blood curdling scream. Horror and Agony exploding within her violently, gut wrenching sobs ripping her throat apart as she slaps her hands over her eyes as if it will make this go away.

The mangled remains of baby.

She can't stop screaming and Ms. Norbury is rushing out in a bathrobe and cap, she gasps at the sight and quickly grabs the young woman, hurrying her inside away from the horrific scene. Another neighbor comes out, gagging but she can hear him calling the police. "Honey, look at me. It's okay, everything is going to be okay. The police are coming" she tries to calm her down. "There's a note" Mr. Hartford says cautiously, "I'm going to make you some tea okay? I'm so sorry, I can't believe somebody would—oh jesus, people are such monsters. I'm so sorry" Ms. Norbury kisses her forehead and leaves with the other man in tow. He doesn't like dealing with emotional women.

Annabeth shakily opens the envelope, pulling out its contents and dropping them with a sharp cry of horror. She counts to ten and picks them back up; pictures of her, and a hand written note…_**his **_handwriting! :

_**I can't wait to filly with you again, my darling devotchka**_.

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	2. ANGEL

**The Wolf & The Lamb**

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* * *

::TWO::

It's a joke. A sick, twisted joke, She tells herself as she draws her knees up to her chest. Alex is dead, he was executed and dead and she is safe. So why is she shaking so hard? Why is she so terrified? Ms. Norbury returns without any policemen and an irritated expression on her usually serene face, "The damn cops didn't see any point in investigating the murder of a household pet, unless of course you're the Queen or something. Listen, I'm going to take care of you okay? I live right next door, I'll just swing back and forth when I need to." She says, but there is no reaction from Annabeth.

Luanne Norbury bites her lip, she's not stupid. She's seen these signs, and they've been there long before her kitten was brutally murdered. Ms. Norbury has no idea what horrors this young woman has been through, but she knows that something is wrong. She covers her with a blanket and moves to the kitchen, intending to make her some of her grandmother's famous spaghetti and meatballs. She had a patient similar to Annabeth, back when she was a psychoanalyst. A twenty-six year old woman who had been locked inside a basement and practically starved from the age of three to six before she'd been adopted, perhaps something similar had happened to Annabeth?

"Annabeth, you're going to be okay" she tells her gently, laying a hand on her arm. But Annabeth's jaw is wired shut and she merely curls into herself even more, hands still clutching the note. "What is that?" Luanne asks, trying to pry the now wrinkled paper from her death grip. "Alex" she breathes out shakily, and all at once Norbury understands; there's no question about it. Excluding the new trauma of her dead cat, something painful—perhaps beyond reason—has happened to this twenty-two year old.

She sits up slowly, her face red and wet from crying so hard. "Where's baby?" she says hoarsely, "We'll bury her later okay? Honey, who's Alex?" Luanne asks and her brow furrows when Annabeth visibly cringes at his name. "Did he hurt you?" Annabeth stares at the floor, hugging herself. And she looks so small and scared it's breaking Luanne's heart. She shakes her head no, "Can't tell. I can't tell. Mustn't tell" she says, repeating it over and over and rocking herself back and forth. Her eyes are glazed over and she isn't there anymore. "Are you with him right now?" she ask, holding Annabeth's hand to reassure her that while her mind is somewhere dark, her body is safe in the present.

But the moment passes, "Oh uh…thanks for taking care of me like this…I think I'm fine now, you can go" she says weakly, but Ms. Norbury doesn't move an inch. "tell me what Alex did to you" there it is again, the flinch. "He was my stepbrother…" she says, inspecting her nails and swallowing hard. "Did he hurt you?" she repeats. Annabeth looks uncomfortable, "He's a bad man" she mumbles and they both know she's lying. So Luanne pulls out years of training, wisdom, compassion, and patience from her long ago days of psychotherapy. "Can you tell me what the bad man did to you?"

Annabeth shakes her head no, and Norbury knows better than to push her. "A lot of things scare me…" she admits quietly, when Norbury doesn't say anything but she doesn't continue. "We tend to associate traumatic experiences with certain objects, does anything remind you of him?" Annabeth slowly nods, "he's with me every second of every day…killing me from the inside out" Norbury watches as she slowly gets up, facing the window. "You can leave now"

Norbury reaches for her but the moment her fingers brush against her arm, Annabeth recoils so violently she slams herself into the wall. "Please don't touch me, it…hurts" she says. "It hurts to be _touched_? Annabeth, I know you don't want me to leave" Annabeth shakes her head, "I just want to be alone. Go away" she hisses at her, her eyes narrowed in anger but Luanne sees the desperation in her eyes. "I'm not going anywhere, I promise" she says and Annabeth stares at her in disbelief for a long couple of moments before tentatively leaning into the older woman. "…promise?"

Luanne kisses the top of her head. "I promise"

* * *

Her black heels click against the black and white tile as she travels down the long hallway, she is confident and on a mission. Her nails perfectly manicured, her suit tailored to fit her to a T, and her hair pulled into a perfect bun. Her makeup is simple, her eyes hard and determined but her expression open and friendly. "I'm here to see Dr. Bernhart, tell him Dr. Norbury is here please" she tells the woman at the desk. They replaced June, rumor had it she'd had an affair with the mail boy. (Go June)

"Right away, doctor" the new woman says, popping her gum loudly and rushing down the hallway to retrieve Henry. A man in his late sixties comes out, "Yes? Oh…hello Luanne" he embraces her. "No time to chit chat, Henry. I need access to the city files down stairs" he clears his throat, "You don't work here anymore L-…" "I know that. Please Henry, it's important" he looks at her for a moment, "Very well. Just don't make too much a mess" he teases lightly, knowing how disorganized she can be sometimes.

Luanne starts with H first, Annabeth's last name is Holbrook. She finds a file under the name HOLBROOK, NATASHA and peeks inside just in case, there is a picture of a beautiful woman and Luanne sees Annabeth inside of her. This is her mother. She tucks this folder under her arm and moves on, nothing on Annabeth—no, wait…here it is. It's not very bulky but it's a little thicker than her mothers.

She sits down at a table in the middle of the room and starts to read Annabeth's folder first…

* * *

Annabeth wants to learn how to embroider, she wants to learn how to paint and play the piano but she knows she's too stupid to learn or become remotely good at any of this. Luanne said she'd be back as soon as she could, and Annabeth's anxiety was tearing at her. It was hard to breathe, her mother had died and her father…she shook her head and pressed her fingers to her temples to drown out Alex's voice inside of her, the stench of his breath heavy as he moved and hurt her hurt her hurt her stop please, please! "Annabeth!" Luanne's voice breaks through the ice around her.

But Luanne's eyes are filled with tears and she hugs the younger woman, at first Annabeth tries to pull away because Luanne is too good to be hugging something as disgusting as her but she feels so warm and she almost feels like her mother and this feels nice. "I know, sweetie, I know what he did to you" Annabeth's body tightens against hers and she yanks herself away. "How?" she bites. "I read your file…"

"You had no right!" she cries angrily, shaking from rage and embarrassment and terror.

"There's no need to be ashamed, Annabeth, what he did was entir-…"

"Get out!" she can't do this, she can't let someone into her life like this. She's not worthy and it hurts too much. "We can talk about it, Annabeth. It's okay to talk to somebody about what he did, it'll make you feel better" "I don't want to _talk_ about it! I want to forget! GET OUT!" But Luanne isn't giving up this easily, "We both know keeping all of this—…" "_GET OUT_!" "-…bottled up inside is only hurting you every single day, please Annabeth let me help you!"

But Annabeth is driving her out of the door (_Wait no come back I want to tell you everything. I want to tell you what he did and I want you to hold me and make it okay again.)_ and locking the door behind her.

* * *

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	3. HURT

**The Wolf & The Lamb**

Thank you DemonBarber14 & Bibliophilechild! You guys are such sweethearts! And thank you to everyone who's reading this and following and adding to their favorite list. Your support is appreciated very much. Stay beautiful you guys!

AN: So, I'm sure you already guessed it but Annabeth is suffering from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, I took psychology for two years; I own at least ten text books. I am approaching this disorder with the up most respect and compassion for people who, in reality, suffer from this regardless if it's because of rape, fighting in a war, or being in a bad car accident. Having this disorder does not mean you're weak, if you or anyone else is suffering from this; I am a stranger, I do not know you personally and I do not know what your life has been like. But…

_**The pain of suddenly reliving horrific events is almost unimaginable for me. Please try and remember that although it feels like it's real and it's happening right now, that it's not. You are okay, you are fine, and you are safe. You are in the present here and now, and that past can't manifest itself again to come and physically hurt you. Everything is just fine, these feelings will pass and you're going to be okay.**_

Post -Traumatic Stress Disorder: PTSD is an anxiety disorder that some people get after seeing or living through a dangerous event such as sexual assault, childhood/domestic abuse, and war. When in danger, it's natural to feel afraid. This fear triggers many split-second changes in the body to prepare to defend against the danger or to avoid it. This "fight-or-flight" response is a healthy reaction meant to protect a person from harm. But in PTSD, this reaction is changed or damaged. People who have PTSD may feel stressed or frightened even when they're no longer in danger.

**Trigger Warning**: This chapter includes a first-person narrative of a sexual assault, spoken in the present. Please proceed with caution.

* * *

**::THREE::**

_**:Memory: **__Hide. Hide. Hide. I am hiding from him. please don't let him find me. Please God, oh please don't let him find me. Footsteps, I can hear them. No, No, No! Please! Don't let him find me! "Oh Aaaanaaabeth, come out come out wherever you are!" The door is opening, it's opening oh jesus oh god oh please! My hair, he's ripping it out of my scalp. Trying to crawl away, trying to reason with him I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I won't do it again. I don't know why he's mad at me, but I am sorry and please don't hurt me anymore Alex, I'll be good. I promise._

She wakes up for the fifteenth time that night, shaking hard and sobbing. She wants so desperately to get a decent night's sleep but the nightmares and flashbacks are getting to the point of insomnia. Her eyes have bags under them, she hasn't showered in four days, and she spends most of her time curled up struggling to get through these horrific memories. Memories of hiding from Alex and the terror she felt when he'd always find her, sometimes dragging it out to torment her.

Annabeth feels like she's dying. That's the best way she can describe it to herself, it's like drowning and burning and not being able to scream. She hates the flashbacks. She doesn't want to remember, she just wants to forget. She wants to block it all out, erase those five years of her life completely. Annabeth has gotten better at handling them, but sometimes they're just too horrible and too painfully real.

_Just keep moving forward. You'll be okay. I'm falling apart. Everything will be fine. It feels like I'm suffocating. He can't hurt you because he's dead. The note was in his handwriting. Someone is playing a demented joke on you. I am so scared. Just keep breathing. I'm scared. I'm scared. I'm scared._

She spends most of her time curled up in a chair, staring at the blank wall. It feels like she's spent her entire life being terrified, closed-off, ashamed, and broken. It feels like she's never going to be okay again, five years is a long fucking time to be controlled, tormented, abused, bullied, and tortured. She hates every single inch of herself. Another flashback, she whimpers as the memory manifests itself behind her sleep deprived eye lids. She's so tired. But these memories have no mercy for an exhausted young woman, both physically and emotionally.

**::Memory:: **_His hand slams down on my mouth. My jaw hurts, his fingernails are digging into my face. Get off of me. I can't speak. I can't cry out. He's my stepbrother and I don't want this. I'm crying, crying, my "No" s and "Don't" s are muffled but I know he understands. I am a virgin. I don't want this. He pins me down by the throat. He rips open my nightgown straight up the middle. I am shaking. His grip over my mouth is so painful. He moves it away and I gasp for air. _

_He attacks my body with his hands and his mouth. He bites me. He chuckles when I cry out. He's too heavy. He's too rough. I am a virgin. "Don't do this, please!" I sob, trying to keep my naked legs closed. He slaps me hard across the face prys them open, no no no. I won't let this happen! No! I shove him as hard as I can. He is thrown off balance. I run. I run run run run yes! I got away! I got away! __**OH/GOD/NO/PLEASE**__! I am on the ground again. "Naughty little devotchka" he growls at me. He drags me, I struggle but he is stronger. He drags me back to the bedroom and onto the bed. _

_He ties my hands and feet to the bed posts. I can see him undressing. He's putting on music. Beethoven. I am a virgin. He pulls off my underwear. He pulls down his pants. This isn't happening. This isn't happening. This is not happening to me. I feel something hard and fleshy against my inner thigh. I'm not stupid or naïve. I know what that is. But it feels so strange and terrifying and I don't want it anywhere near me. "Alex please…don't" I whisper weakly. "I don't want this, please Alex…don't" but he grabs onto my hips and rams himself into me. I am dry. I scream. He is hurting me. He is ripping me apart. I am dying inside. He is filling me with his decay and corruption. He is tainting me. He is burning, bruising, filling, stretching, and tearing me apart. He is hurting me so badly._

"_Please stop!" I wail, struggling against the scarves he's tied me with. He ignores me. I am not a virgin. I am dying. I am tainted. I am nothing now._

There is glass everywhere. Her knuckles covered in blood. She punched a window, she punched it because in her anxiety and desperation she truly believed she back inside that apartment and she had to get away. This happens more often that she likes, the flashbacks being so painful and real that she reacts physically; sometimes without her conscious awareness. She doesn't remember breaking the window but she knows that she felt trapped and desperate to get out.

Annabeth wraps a bandage around her hand and cleans up the glass.

* * *

"Thank you for seeing me, Mr. Holbrook"

"What is this about?"

"Your daughter, Mr. Holbrook"

"Oh…I haven't talked to her since my stepson was incarcerated"

"For what, may I ask?"

"Oh uh…I don't know…committed a few petty crimes I suppose, you know teenage boys"

"Mr. Holbrook. Your stepson was twenty-five years old when he was placed into the London City prison."

The man across from Luanne is wringing his hands nervously, he keeps looking over at his pager hoping it will go off. "Oh? I seem to have forgotten he was that old, nice fellow went down the wrong path…it happens" Luanne looks at him, her gaze strong. "Did you live close to your daughter and stepson?"

"Er, yes. Shelia and I visited them as much as we could"

"and were you and your wife aware that Alex showed strong signs of anti-social personality disorder? It says he was diagnosed by Dr. Carvine at the Ludivico Center, back when he was sixteen years old. I trust you know all about the controversial therapy he was placed under? A controversial therapy that stopped working after he attempted suicide?"

"I think…I heard something about that…"

"Then I will ask you, Mr. Holbrook. Why did you allow your sixteen year old daughter to live completely alone with a twenty year old man with psychopathic tendencies and a criminal past that includes gang affiliation, breaking and entering, theft, and sexual assault?"

Bartholomew Holbrook is getting a little sweaty now, rubbing the back of his beefy neck with his large hand. He twists his wedding finger. "There was no room at the old apartment and Alex was a decent young man, he was cured. I couldn't have her live with a stranger or worse yet a girl…who knows what disgusting homosexual situations would arise?"

Luanne jumps in loudly, refusing to accept any of this bullshit. "I understand perfectly. You, Mr. Holbrook, allowed your child to live inside of a house in which she was an easy target for a clinically diagnosed psychopath and his sick perversions and sadistic tendencies. I don't know exactly what he did to her but I know he did something. Thank you for your time, Mr. Holbrook. Good day" she says curtly. Leaving quickly.

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	4. MEMORY

**The Wolf & The Lamb**

Thank you DemonBarber14 & Bibliophilechild!

Alex 'suffers' from an antisocial personality disorder: ASPD is a type of chronic mental condition in which a person's ways of thinking, perceiving situations and relating to others are dysfunctional — and destructive. People with antisocial personality disorder typically have no regard for right and wrong and often disregard the rights, wishes and feelings of others.

Those with antisocial personality disorder tend to antagonize, manipulate or treat others either harshly or with callous indifference. They may often violate the law, landing in frequent trouble, yet they show no guilt or remorse. They may lie, behave violently or impulsively, and have problems with drug and alcohol use. These characteristics typically make people with antisocial personality disorder unable to fulfill responsibilities related to family, work or school.

**The symptoms for ASPD may include:**

Disregard for right or wrong

Persistent Lying or Deceit to exploit others

Using charm or wit to manipulate others for personal gain or sheer pleasure

Repeatedly violating the rights of others by the use of intimidation, dishonest, and misrepresentation

Hostility, significant irritability, agitation, impulsiveness, aggression, or violence

Lack of empathy for others and lack of remorse for harming others

Unnecessary risk taking or dangerous behaviors

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::FOUR::

_**::Memory::**_ {3 Months Before Alex Delarge} _"Let's have another round of applause for Trisha! Awesome, up next is Annabeth Holbrook singing James' Brown; It's a Man's World. Here she is ladies and gentlemen, give it up for Annabeth!" Tommy says, she takes a deep breath and walks out onto the stage smiling the crowd and stopping just a few feet from the edge of the stage. They all quiet down as the first notes of the song start, and then she starts singing. Her voice is crisp and clear and passionate. _

"_This is a man's world/this is a maaaan's worrrld/oooh but it wouldn't nothing, nothing without a woman or a girl/you see maaaan made the car to take us over the road, yeah/and man made made the trains to carry the heavy, heavy load/man made the electric light (grunt) to take us outta the dark, yeeeah/man made the boats for the water/like Noah, like Noah made the aaark/this is man's man's maaaan's world/but it wouldn't be nothing, nothing without a woman or girl/yeah, yeah, yeah oh oh yeah (grunt)/man thinks about little baby boys and the baby girls/man makes them happy/cause man makes them toys, yeah/this is a man's man's maaaan's world/but it wouldn't nothing, (James Brown style scream) __**NOTHIIIIIIIIIING**__ without a woman or a girl/He's lost in the wilderness HAH!/he's lost in bitterness OH!/he's lost yeeeaaah ya-ya-yeaeaaaah!/This is man's, man's, maaaan's world/But it wouldn't be nothing…NOTHIING without a woman or a girrrrrl/yeah"_

_The whole crowd stands, shouting enthusiastically the moment she drops down on her knees for the scream. It's timed perfectly and it sends shivers down each and every spine. The audience is deeply impressed by her vocal ability, her grittiness and her power. "Thank you, Thank you so much!" And Annabeth knows all this, she's been called "a power house singer" too many times to count. And as the music dies out, she takes in the roaring crowd. A standing ovation, god is there anything more wonderful in the entire world? They want an encore but there isn't enough time, and her voice needs to recuperate. That wasn't an easy song to sing, but it's one of her favorite ones to perform. Yes. This is what she'll do with her life, there's nothing for her. She wants nothing else._

Annabeth stands outside her door with a container of cookies, she isn't ready to tell her everything (she wants to) but she feels bad about kicking her out when she was just trying to help. But she's still scared, scared of being hurt. She doesn't want to get close to anybody; she's too shameful and repulsive. But here she is, standing outside her door waiting. Luanne opens it and smiles at her, "Hi sweetie" Annabeth shyly holds out the cookies, "I wanted to…apologize for kicking you out before, I know you were just trying to help" she mumbles, staring at the floor. Luanne takes a mental note of this.

"I still want to, please Annabeth…won't you come inside?" Luanne steps to the side invitingly, and Annabeth doesn't move. But…she doesn't walk away either. "I don't…I don't want you to waste your time on me" she says in a miserable voice, "It's not wasting my time at all. It's breaking my heart seeing you so sad and scared all the time, it'll make you feel better to talk to someone. It's only making it worse keeping it all bottled up inside" Luanne tells her with gentle sincerity. And she gently guides the young woman into her apartment, putting her arm affectionately around her shoulders.

Annabeth sits stiffly on the couch, Ms. Norbury's home is beautiful; it's stylish and vintage without being stuffy or haughty, there is artwork on the walls and Vogue issues from the 1930s framed. "Are you hungry, sweetie?" Annabeth picks at the skin around her finger nails, "A little" Norbury smiles, "I'll get us some milk to have with these cookies. And I have some left over Banana Cream Pie" despite her anxiety, Annabeth's eyes light up at those words. Banana Cream Pie is her absolute favorite and before she can lock her lips tight the words are spilling out.

"I love Banana cream pie, my grandpa used to make all the time. He was so funny, and I helped him make it and he never yelled me if I put too many bananas or made any other mistake he was just really nice a-…" she snaps her mouth shut, embarrassed. "I'm sorry" she mumbles, Luanne frowns. "Don't be sorry for being happy" she tells her. "You see that? That joy you just felt, the memory of your happy times baking with your beloved grandfather? Alex Delarge can _**never**_ take that away from you."

"C-Can I…can I tell you about it?" she says weakly, "That's why we're here, sweetie. It's okay, you can take your time. Don't strain yourself" Annabeth hugs herself and mumbles something so weak and small that Norbury has to ask her to repeat herself, "It's hard to remember everything sometimes…I have flashbacks and I know he did b-bad things but sometimes…I just black everything out, it makes it easier. It's just no matter how many memories I black out…the fear is still just as bad as it was when I was living with him" she confesses in a tight cramped whisper, her hands shaking.

"I'm not ready yet…please, can we do something else for a little bit? Can we watch tv?" Annabeth pleads after a few long minutes of silence. "Sure, sweetie" Luanne reaches over to switch on the television set, it's playing a James Cagney film. But neither of them are paying attention, "It was me who suggested it…sharing an apartment with Alex…Daddy and Shelia were newlyweds, they deserved a house for themselves and I thought it would b-be good practice for having a roommate when I went to college in a few years." Annabeth tells her, "Sweetie, just because you suggested it does not make it your fault in any shape or form. You know that, right?"

Annabeth doesn't say anything. Unbeknownst to her and forgotten by Ms. Norbury, there is a timer set to record the documentary on Alex. The television automatically switches to that channel without any notice from the two, the volume is low enough to not be obtrusive during their conversation. But loud enough to still register, "I really loved my grandpa" Annabeth smiles, "I'm sure he was a lovely man."

"My grandpa…he's dead" there is an ache in her voice, fresh tears in her eyes. "I miss him so much…and when he died it felt like I lost the only person who was on my side" Luanne tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. "I'm sorry, sweetie."

On the television, Alex is being interviewed. And his voice cuts like a jagged blade through Annabeth's mind, her eyes dilate in pure terror and she starts shaking. "Th-That's…That's _**A-Alex's**_ voice! Oh No, no no no _**please**_!" Luanne hurries and turns the tv off, "It's okay sweetie. It was just the tv, it's okay" but Annabeth can't hear her, she's sliding down to the floor on her hands and knees and crawling away. "That's Alex's voice!" she wails, her voice filled with terror and anxiety. "Sweetie, where are you right now?" Luanne asks, knowing that Annabeth isn't with her anymore.

Her breathing is getting ragged, "D-Don't hurt me, please Alex! Pleeeeease!? I'll be good, I'll be good, I promise!" Annabeth sobs in a screaming wail, she stands up and starts pacing all over as if looking for something or perhaps someone to help her, "I want to get out! I want to leave, I don't want to be here anymore! It hurts, it hurts! _**Ooohhhhh, it hurrrts meeee**_!" Annabeth whimpers, "I _have_ to get out of here! N-No, No please don't touch me there!" Ms. Norbury puts her arms around her, but Annabeth pushes her away. "I have to get out, please let me out!"

"It's alright, sweetie, it's alright!"

"I'm scared, I'm scaaarrred!" she shrieks

"I know, but if we look at the scary stuff it'll go away. I'm right here, sweetie"

"Ms. Norbury, Ms. Norbury my wrists! MY WRISTS!" She holds out her hands, palms up bending backwards so that her wrists are more emphasized. Her arms are shaking. "What's wrong, what is Alex doing?" "My wrists are going numb!" she whimpers, "why? What's happening Annabeth? Tell me, sweetie" "H-H-He ties them…he t-ties ties them to the bed posts with rope….ohhhh it hurrrrts, my skin!"

"That's because the ropes were chaffing you, sweetie. But they're **not **there anymore, it's alright sweetie. I promise there are no ropes tying your wrists now, see?" she gently rubs the bare skin of Annabeth's wrists, "It's only a memory, you're safe. I'm right here, sweetie"

Annabeth's breathing slows down to a normal pace and she looks painfully embarrassed at her outburst, "I…I should go" she says weakly, exhausted after coming back to the present from such a painful flashback. "Sweetie…did Alex rape you?" the flinch is all Luanne needs as confirmation. Annabeth hugs herself protectively, "n-no…." she mumbles. "Annabeth, denying it is not going to make it go away" she tells her gently. "He…he raped me…e-every single d-day…I w-would…I would hide and he…he would always find me, _**always**_!"

"Alex is dead, sweetie. He was executed by the firing squad"

"A-Alex is dead?"

"He's dead. He can't hurt you anymore, sweetie"

"And you…You won't leave me…?"

"I won't leave you, I promise"

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**Please Review**

Annabeth's rendition of "It's a Man's World" sounds **EXACTLY** like Christina Aguilera's at the 2007 Grammy Awards, in fact she has Christina's singing voice. So there you go. I really love when she sings powerful songs like this, instead of generic pop songs. It just feels like her vocal talent is wasted on mediocre songs. Siiiigh. Check out her rendition on youtube, it's fucking amazing. The scream she does will send electricity all over your freaking body.


	5. DENIAL

The Wolf & The Lamb

_Thank you DemonBarber14 :D_

This is a very intense and dramatic story.

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::FIVE::

It was five in the afternoon when Annabeth walked into Luanne's apartment; her first impromptu session went surprisingly well. At least she'd admitted that she'd been raped, still there is a long way to go. And Luanne knows she's only treading the shallow waters of Annabeth's trauma, she's just skimming the surface really. Annabeth has blocked out many memories of her abuse, she is aware that she was sexually abused and that it happened on a regular basis but she can only recall that first time. Those five years of her life are a blur, only coming back to her in random jagged fragments of painful memories.

"Let's talk. Come on, sweetie it's okay. Do you want to sit with me in the big chair?" she asks her gently, she's never believed in that bull shit "Just-sit-there-with-a-blank-expression-while-a-pa tient-is-having-an-emotional-breakdown" she knows that sometimes physical closeness counts just as much as listening. Annabeth's mother died due to birth complications. "Uh-huh" she mumbles and curls up with her in the blue velvet arm chair.

"Breathe, sweetie, and close your eyes. I'm going to count backwards from ten, count with me. When we hit one, you will be back in the apartment. You'll _remember_, but you _won't_ feel the hurt"

She holds her hand, and they count together. Annabeth's hand is shaking and gripping hers for reassurance. They hit one, and Annabeth is mentally transported to her horrifying past. "Where are you right now, sweetie?"

"…Alex's bedroom…" Annabeth whimpers, and there is a relaxed resignation, a doomed acceptance that the pain she's about to experience is simply something that she cannot escape.

"Where is Alex right now?"

"…at work…."she interrupts herself, "the front door is opening…he's here!" the anxiety in her voice is unmistakable; her breathing is shallow in her terror. "What is Alex doing, sweetie?" Luanne asks, "Oh God, oh God! I forgot, I'm sorry! Please, please I'll be good Alex!" Annabeth pleads in a screaming voice, her face contorted in her hysteria. "What's happening?" Luanne presses urgently, "I was supposed to be on the bed for him when he got home, I forgot! I forgot, I'm sorry Alex!"

Annabeth sits straight up, having forced herself back into the present. "No, I won't remember! I won't go back there ever again, not even my mind. I don't want to go back, you hear me?! I won't!" she shrieks at Luanne, shaking. "I know it's painful, sweetie, but we have to back to those memories otherwise you'll never get past them"

But Annabelle claps her hands over her ears, singing loudly to drown out Luanne's voice. "Annabeth, please…what did Alex do to punish you for not being on his bed on time?" Annabeth flinches away from her touch, "Don't fucking touch me!" she shrieks, rage staining her voice and making it ugly. But the desperation and terror is still electric bright within her eyes. And Luanne understands that her aggression is a defensive mechanism.

"Sweetie, it's okay. I promise, facing all of it will make it better. I won't let anything hurt you"

"Nobody cares! Nobody cares and it makes you all mad inside! I want somebody to care about me! I can't tell anybody what he's doing, I can't because they don't care. Nobody cares!"

"_I _care, sweetie!"

"OH!" she suddenly cries out, looking at Luanne but not seeing her. "Don't fist me, don't fist me!" she pleads in a sobbing voice, hiding under the grand piano. "what? What does that mean, Annabeth? Tell me" Annabeth cowers away from her, "I know! I know, you're gonna fist me! And the music, the music is getting louder! Ohhhh it hurrrts me!" she wails, "what is Alex doing, sweetie? What music? What is happening, you can tell me Annabeth!"

But apparently, what Alex is "doing" to her inside of her mind at this moment—is too horrific and painful to simply put into a comprehensible sentence. So Luanne resigns to stop asking her and works to help her through whatever "don't fist me" means. "It hurts!" she keeps on wailing, "I know sweetie, I'm so sorry" Luanne kisses her forehead and hugs her. "I know it hurts, it's okay sweetie. It's in the past, you're twenty-one years old. Alex is dead. This is just a memory"

Annabeth comes back a second time, this time calmer. "Sweetie, do you remember now?"

"…yes…I don't think I ever forgot I just…I pushed it away" Luanne wraps her arm around her, "It's called repression sweetie. Now those memories are pulled into the conscious awareness where we can face them head on. Now, take your time with this question sweetie…what does 'don't fist me' mean?"

There is silence for fifteen minutes, Luanne is extremely patient. But she's a bit afraid that Annabeth will slip into a flashback and be unable to tell her anything due to her terror. This time, however, she stays in the present.

"After Alex raped me that first time…I wasn't that scared of him…I mean, I was scared but not…not in the same way I am now or would be later…you know? I was more angry than afraid…he said I better be naked on his bed, with…my pretty legs spread wide for him by the time…he got home from work.

But…I defied him, I rebelled and I shouldn't have…he was really angry when he saw I had disobeyed…I even sassed him, called him a pathetic loser who probably couldn't get it up unless he was forcing himself on a girl…and he…he got really angry at me…I fought him but he was stronger…and it doesn't matter, Ms. Norbury…how hard I fight him…he'll always win…he ripped my clothes off…I was so scared but I kept fighting him…maybe if I had just submitted earlier…" she trails off, and does not finish her sentence. "…he pinned me down with his body, I was too exhausted from the fighting to struggle anymore…I was completely dry and I didn't realize what he was going to do…to punish me..."

"What, sweetie? What did Alex do to punish you?"

Twenty minutes pass in silence. Annabeth doesn't say a word for nearly thirty minutes. "This can't go on any longer, Ms. Norbury…I'm wasting your time…the truth is, I was never abused by Alex Delarge…I've never even met him, not once. I don't know why I started lying…but we can't continue down this road" she tells her, slowly and clearly. "It's interesting to me, sweetie, that the denial comes at this particular time"

"excuse me, this is not denial, Ms. Norbury"

"excuse me, sweetie, but it is. We are the threshold of one of the most painful memories, and there are still many left to go through aren't there? I understand how afraid you are but denying it over and over is not going to make it go away"

"It's late, I'm going to bed. Goodnight Ms. Norbury. We will not be seeing each other again"

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**Please Review**


	6. EVIDENCE

The Wolf & The Lamb

Thank you DemonBarber14 , Bibliophilechild, and Weasley

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::SIX::

Luanne doesn't see her for three days, and since Annabeth is adamantly denying that anything ever happened she knows she needs evidence; undeniable evidence not only that she'd lived with Alex Burgess but that he had sadistically abused her. First stop, the public records building in London. Now, sitting at her coffee table she looks through Annabeth's. Each citizen's housing location is recorded to keep track of the homeless, and Annabeth is no exception.

**1971-1976 –5342 N. 7962 W. Municipal Flatblock A**

** Residents: BURGESS, NATHANIEL ALEXANDER**

** HOLBROOK, MARIA ANNABETH**

She puts that aside and reaches for the medical records, this might be less helpful. She doubts Alex took her to the hospital enough for any abuse to be apparent; but wait…

_March 17__th__ 1971: Patient treated for three broken fingers_

_April 26__th__ 1971: Patient treated for third degree burns on lower stomach_

_April 30__th__ 1971: Patient treated for four cracked ribs and a broken jaw_

_May 9__th__ 1971: Patient treated for torn ligaments (right shoulder)_

_May 20__th__ 1971: Patient treated for fractured clavicle_

_May 31__st__ 1971: Patient treated for urinary complications (painful to urinate)_

There's more, five years' worth of hospital visits. But Alex was smart, he almost never went to the same hospital, never used the same doctor and as a result Annabeth was never able to get close enough to feel comfortable or safe confiding about the abuse. Luanne puts these records into a new folder and puts everything else back. Norbury climbs into her car, driving the fifteen miles to the old apartment. And she is wandering inside and closing the door behind her. The apartment still has some stray furnishing left, though it's obviously been abandoned. There is graffiti on the walls.

She walks down the hallway, past a bathroom, and stops at a bedroom. The walls are painted light green, a comforting color but the paint is badly chipped. Someone has spray painted, "FUCK" across it in black. Luanne isn't sure what she's doing here, what does she expect to find? Something, anything; she wanders around the room but nothing stands out. Wait, is that a creek in the floorboards? She adds more pressure to the spot, yes.

Luanne kneels down and feels around, a crack…she curls her fingers and gently lifts the floorboard up. There is a jewelry box, a few books, a worn out teddy bear from a long ago childhood (perhaps generations of childhoods), and a notebook. She pulls that out and opens it, the pages are completely white and filled with haunting drawings.

Drawings of arms bound by ropes, legs pinned open with the vaginal area scribbled out violently, a pair of piercing blue eyes one decorated with a false eyelash, musical notes dripping blood and others engulfed in fire, girls in fetal positions in cages made from iron and bones, there is one of a girl standing off to the side as others gather into a group; a symbol of her isolation?

She stuffs everything into her bag and leaves.

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**Please Review**

**Sorry this one's so short.**


	7. BURNING

The Wolf & The Lamb

DemonBarber14: Thank you so much and don't worry about the short review, I wrote a hella short chapter ;)

Bibliophilechild: Yep. Pretty much. Thanks for the review!

/I created a Tumblr post dedicated to this story, with pictures of Annabeth/

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::SEVEN::

Annabeth is preparing some risotto for herself when her doorbell rings (Don't answer it!) she hesitates for about five seconds before tip toeing over to the door and looking through the peep-hole. It's Ms. Norbury, the relief she feels that her friend hasn't abandoned her makes her want to cry oddly enough. But at the same time, she can feel herself laying more bricks down on the wall between them. It's confusing her to no end, she's pushing her away and yet desperate for her to be close. "What is it, Ms. Norbury?" she asks, her door not open enough to be inviting. "I have something to show you, sweetie" this is when Annabeth's eyes wander to her dangling hand, holding onto a thick manila folder. In the other is her big bag.

"Fine. I'm making risotto, would you like some?" even when she's trying to push her away, Annabeth can't help but be polite. It makes Luanne smile to herself. "I would love some, thank you" so Annabeth pulls out two plates and gets everything ready. She sits across from her, "How have you been feeling?" Luanne asks, piercing a shrimp with her fork. "Fine. Still a little anxious b-but not because of what you think, okay? I've always had anxiety problems, daddy can vouch for me on that! Alex Delarge and I never met" Annabeth is quick to deny everything once more, "Annabeth; we both know that's not true. I went to the apartment, sweetie, I have some things to show you"

She lays everything slowly onto the table, and so far Annabeth is good at acting like she has no idea what any of these objects mean. There is no reaction to the music box, the drawing journal, the books but then Luanne lays down the raggedy old teddy bear and Annabeth grabs it, crying out in a mixture of relief, joy, and strangely enough heartache. "Carnegie!" she proclaims jovially, her intense reaction to the teddy bear is both sad and endearing. "That's a very nice name, sweetie, is it after the Carnegie Concert Hall in New York City?" "Uh-Huh, grandpa took me there when I was four years old. It was so pretty and he surprised me with him" she hugs the bear and kisses the top of his head.

"He was grandpa's from when he was little, I pinkie promised I would always love Carnegie and never let anyone hurt him so I had to hide him, so Alex couldn't hurt him" she rambles, Luanne wonders if Carnegie is a representation of Annabeth herself, a part of herself that she was desperate to protect against the wrath of an insatiable monster. "When I left…when I left I wanted to get out so badly I f-forgot to grab him, a-and he's been all alone." She wailed, her voice was childlike. "Carnegie knows you were scared sweetie, he understands" Luanne reassures her. "T-Tried going back to get him but I couldn't, I was too scared! I knew Alex would be waiting for me there!"

Luanne goes through all of this inside her head; It seems that Carnegie is a representation of both the love and trust she shared with her grandfather and a long lost childhood. "Annabeth, do you realize you just confessed that you did in fact live with Alex?" Luanne asks her gently, "…Yeah…" she mumbles into the soft fur of Carnegie, Luanne moves to sit next to Annabeth; who leans against her affectionately. Ms. Norbury opens the notebook and Annabeth inhales sharply, "It happened, sweetie, these are the drawing you made…this was your cry for help…your anger towards your father and stepmother for turning a blind eye to the tortures inflicted on you, for the neighbors who never called the police, the teachers who saw the bruises but did little to nothing to find out what was wrong"

She tells her, turning another page to reveal a drawing of Annabeth's father and stepmother with their mouths spread into poisonous smiles; filled with sharp teeth and their eyes scribbled out with pen so violently it had ripped through the paper. "I know it's wrong to hate your own father and his wife…I know it's wrong to hate your neighbors but I did…I did, Ms. Norbury, and now I'm going to go to hell!" Luanne tries to tell her that it's perfectly normal and understandable for her to be bitter towards the people who had failed to protect her but Annabeth is talking again, "I don't want to be here anymore!"

"Where, sweetie?"

"The b-b-bedroom! My wrists are going numb! I can't breeeeaaaathe! Ms. Norbury?!"

"I'm right here, sweetie, I'm here. I know this is a scary memory, I'm not going anywhere sweetie okay?"

"It hurts! The music, oh it hurrrts meee!"

"Music? What music, Annabeth?"

"I have to get out of here!" Suddenly, her voice changes and it takes a heartbeat for Luanne to realize that she's imitating Alex's words from the past, _"That's right, my darling, scream for me you filthy malenky bitch!"_ now she's switched back to her own voice, "It's burrrrrning meeeee! And the m-m-m-music! I can…I…I can h-h-hear it! Oh God, oh pleeeease!"

"What is Alex doing, sweetie? I can't help you if you don't tell me!"

But Annabeth is long gone it seems, "The music! I can hear it, B-Beethoven! The Ninth, the Ninth! And it's burning me, and it goes sharp…Sh-Sh-SHARP! And it's so loud and it burns you and it m-m-makes your head hurt and can't get away from it! I have to get out of here!" she scrambles for the door, banging on it with her fists. "What is Alex doing?" Luanne asks for the millionth time it seems.

"I won't tell!"

"Can you tell Ms. Norbury?"

"Yes!"

"Then go ahead, sweetie, tell Ms. Norbury what Alex did!"

"Ms. Norbury is too far away!" she wails, hugging her self and cowering against the door.

"No, sweetie, Ms. Norbury is right here. I just seem very far away because…all good and safe things must have seemed very far away"

"….It was during my third year with him…he came home feeling extra ultra-violent, I suppose…he put on the Ninth, blasting it so loud it felt like it was soaking up into my bones. He…He'd driven down to an old f-farm with his gang, I'm not sure what they did there but he…he brought back a cattle brand iron…" Annabeth trails off with a whimper, and Luanne swallows thickly. _Oh Jesus._ "…All I could h-hear was the music, and Alex was laughing and…and h-h-he burned me on my i-i-inner thigh. It was an A. He said it was a reminder, so I would never f-f-forget that I was his gloopy m-malenky bitch to give the old in-out-out real savage and nobody else's"

"I'm so sorry, sweetie. But listen to me, that happened once. It will never happen again, never. I won't let it. Why don't we take a break for a while, Annabeth? We can re-heat the risotto and watch some movies, you've gone through a lot the past hour or so. We have to pace ourselves"

"Thank you, Ms. Norbury" she rests her head on her shoulder and whispers the next part so softly that it takes Luanne a moment to realize she actually heard it, "I wish you were my mama" Luanne replies by hugging her closer and kissing the top of her head. Ms. Norbury is filled with rage, absolute unfiltered rage. Rage at Alex Delarge himself, Rage at Mr. Holbrook for turning a blind eye; for choosing not to see that his only child was being mistreated, Rage at the government that had failed to provide a severely damaged young woman with proper help, Rage at the neighbors who no doubt heard the screams from within the Burgess-Holbrook apartment and merely decided it wasn't their place.

Annabeth and Luanne watch The Wizard of Oz and don't bother reheating the Risotto.

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**Please Review**


	8. MONSTER

The Wolf & The Lamb

Thank you DemonBarber14 and Bibliophilechild for the support :)

I'm quite proud of this one…

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::EIGHT::

Luanne is watching re-runs of The Honeymooners while Annabeth is taking a relaxing bath, but she's not paying much attention to it. She's looking at each drawing carefully, the man's (obviously Alex's) hand formed into a tight fist, covered in blood. And she puts two and two together, Alex sodomized Annabeth with his fist as a punishment for her defiance. Luanne cringes, a fist is naturally thicker than a penis and with Annabeth most likely being sore from her rape, and the added fact that she had been unaroused and scared.

And what was worse? The frequent forced sexual intercourse, the fist being forced violently up her vagina (only once?), the cattle brander incident…What was worse was…all of that, was only the surface of five years of trauma. Back in her professional days, she'd had a patient named Sarah Berg; a thirty-four year old woman who had been raped by her father at the age of four.

And even as an adult woman, with a successful career and two beautiful little children aged six and three, who she used to talk about with a huge smile on her face and a sparkle in her eye…even with all the happiness in her adult life…during their sessions, recalling the assault inflicted by her father; the pain and agony and hatred and fear in her voice, the way her hands shook, the way she would hug herself and rock back and forth…that had been the first time Luanne had truly realized how powerful trauma could be. And Annabeth? Annabeth had been abused for _**five years**_.

Luanne wonders if she should keep telling Annabeth that everything will be okay, she wants that to be true but…should she tell her something else? Should she tell her that while she _**can**_ find success in her life, while she _**can**_ become strong again, while she _**can**_ learn to let people in and trust people again, while she _**can**_ pursue her dream of becoming a world famous vocalist…the pain she'll feel recalling those horrific moments she suffered at the hands of Alex Delarge…that will _**never**_ go away.

_**::Memory:: **_

"_So, you have a new er…patient?"_

"_Well, I'm not a paid psychologist anymore so I don't know if patient is the right word"_

"_What's wrong with him or her then? Hallucinations? Some sort of trauma"_

"_Her. No hallucinations, a lot of anxiety and severe trauma"_

"_those are always the tough ones"_

"_yeah, she was abused for five years. I don't know the details"_

"_well fuck Lulu, I don't know how you do what you do. And you're retired, didn't you buy that little apartment to pursue your painting hobby and all that? I mean, don't get me wrong I'm sorry for that girl but you don't have to save her"_

"_Tom, I've always been the kind of person to put others first. I love helping people, sure sometimes hearing almost every single day about a father or a best friend's older brother pinning a helpless girl down and raping her took it's toll and lead to those moments where I would cry myself to sleep at night but…those moments when I'd get a letter months or even years after our sessions, those letters saying that that girl or boy was finally okay, that they had finally come to terms with their trauma and were pursuing a career or engaged to someone they loved…those moments make it worth while"_

"_will you ever stop being amazing?"_

"_nope. I really love this girl, I guess that's always been my problem you know? I can't just look at someone and see a patient or client. I see the __**person**__, I want to protect them…and my collegues looked down on me for it, said it wasn't my place to love or care; just to listen, take notes, and prescribe drugs. I could never do that, I still can't. If Annabeth breaks down I am going to pull her into my arms, and if that makes me a bad or unprofessional psychologist then so be it"_

"_she's lucky to have you, sis. I know you'll do right. And if it hadn't been for you, I would have never survived my rape" the pain in Tom's voice broke her heart._

"_Tommy, if you want to talk about it you know we can"_

"_No. I'm fine. Well, not…fine but; I'm strong and you gave me that strength. I want you to help this girl, if that's what you want. I love you, Lulu, oh Katie's waking up I gotta go"_

"_Okay, tell Katie that Aunt Luanne sends her lots of kisses"_

"_will do. Bye"_

"_Bye"_

Luanne talked to her brother sometime after she'd first found out that Annabeth had been abused, the reason she'd become a psychologist was partially influenced by her older brother's rape; seeing her strong and super cool older brother go through the trauma of his assault at the hands of his soccer coach at a victory party made her want to pursue a career where she could help others like him. So she did. She picks up Carnegie, running her fingers over the black button eyes. The phone rings.

"Hello?"

"You can't protect that malenky little bitch forever, you blasted baboochka. I will have her again, and if you're a good girl I might let you join in with our eegras" a voice growled, low and husky and filled with dark lust.

Luanne slams the phone down, her heart thudding in her chest. No…No it couldn't be! He was dead, he was dead! But that had sounded just like him, and hadn't Annabeth gotten a note? And the murder of Annabeth's kitten? She stands up and goes to knock on the bathroom door, "Annabeth you in there sweetie?" there is a brief pause, "What? Oh yeah, sorry I fell asleep" "you shouldn't do that in the bath sweetie, you could drown" "you sound worried, are you okay Ms. Norbury?"

Should she tell her about the phone call?

"Yeah, sweetie, I was thinking about getting some McDonalds; come with me?" she doesn't want to leave her alone, "umm sure…I'll get changed" "I'll be waiting in the living room" Luanne goes back to sit on the couch and not four seconds later the phone rings. "Hello?" she says stiffly. "Naughty, Naughty hanging up on me like that!" Alex(?) chastises her, her grip on the phone tightens. "You listen to me you son of a bitch. I don't know if this a joke or something, but it's not funny"

"oh this is no joke, this is Alex the large himself. Now, get my darling Annie-Beth on the phone so I can remind her that that sweet little flesh between her legs is _**mine**_"

"How dare you! H-How is this possible?! You were executed!"

"Obviously not, confused? Why don't you ask the Minister of the Inferior how his sex life is?"

"…his wife suffers from female sexual dysfunction, what the hell does this any of this matter?"

"his wife can't get horny, so he went after some girl's sweet malenky ass and took a bite…figuratively speaking of course or hell maybe even figuratively, vecks can get pretty wild during the ol in out in out you viddy. I caught him, and what would the public think of him having an affair with a nineteen year old girl? And being married on top of that? Tsk, tsk."

"You blackmailed him"

"You got it, my darling"

"Stay away from her, Alex. You come anywhere near, I will not hesitate to gut you like the pig you are. I know what you did to her, and I fucking hate you. You understand me? You cannot see her or hear her voice or touch her ever again, I love that little girl and when I love somebody I do everything in my power to keep them safe from twisted FUCKS like you. Burn in hell, you sick piece of shit."

She hangs up the phone. When she turns around, _Annabeth_ is standing there.

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**Please Review**


	9. FRIENDS

The Wolf & The Lamb

This one is mostly a flashback. PS. I am literally just writing this as I go along. I have no idea what's going to happen six chapters from now or whatever.

**Thank you DemonBarber14, Bibliophilechild, and Weasley**

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::NINE::

_**::Memory::**_

_She had three best friends. Natasha the fierce and beautiful girl from the Bronx with an "attitude problem" who swore like a sailor and wasn't scared of her sexuality; Bentley the poet who drank green tea and rode a Harley Davidson; And Colin the sassy, fabulous, and insightful gay, these people were her family and she loved all three of them dearly. They'd been there for each other through it all._

_Natasha's favorite and most beloved Aunt dying from Leukemia. Bentley's parents getting a divorce. Colin coming out that he was gay. Annabeth loved that she could call any of them at any time, and they would listen to her and make her feel better. The conversations she'd had with them filtered in and out of her mind and made everything feel right again. For example, if she was stood up/cheated on/had her heart broken by some ass hole of a boy; she could call either one of them._

"_Uh-uh honey, no tears you hear me? Tell that son of a bitch that your Mama Natasha will kick his fucking ass if he ever shows his mug around you again. You don't deserve that, you're the hottest bitch I know and if that prick can't realize that, he doesn't deserve you"_

"_What?! Oh baby, don't you worry. Your Colin Bear is coming over there ASAP with some Caramel Frappes and our favorite musicals to cheer you up. You and I are going to get into our pajamas, enjoy our frappes, pig out on ice cream watch Cabaret, Grease, Chicago, Hairspray, and much more!"_

"_He's an ass. Don't sweat it, and don't waste any of your tears on him. I'm sure Colin is on his way over there with those musical movies you guys love so much and Natasha must be loading up the gun to shoot the bastard. We love you a lot, honey. Hey, listen to this new stanza I added to 'Burgundy'…"_

_Everything changed when her father announced he was marrying Sheila Burgess; a co-worker. She had never been upset about it, She'd met Sheila a few times and thought she seemed perfectly nice. And if she made her dad happy, then who was she to act like a brat about it? The wedding was small and simple, Alex had not attended. Annabeth and Colin shared a crying napkin, Natasha was bored, and Bentley was probably creating a new poem inside of his head._

_When Annabeth had to move six hours away, they all shared a group hug. Natasha trying her hardest not to cry, Colin bawling, and Bentley misty eyed. Annabeth hugged them all tightly, and then they all hugged each other simultaneously. It felt like all their lives they had never been apart, Natasha squeezed her shoulders affectionately. "Don't take shit from anybody. You got that?" Annabeth laughed through her tears, hugging her. "I'm going to miss my mama Natasha" she cooed affectionately. Colin pulled her into a very tight embrace, practically breaking her spine. "Promise me you'll never wear emerald green and sunshine yellow together?" she rolled her eyes playfully, "Yes Colin. I won't forget our many fashion consulations" he laughed and kissed her forehead. "Stay fabulous, darling, remember me fondly"_

_Bentley's embrace was less bone-crushing, but the feeling behind it was no less than Colin's or Natasha's. "I wish I could keep you" he whispered, so softly she wasn't sure if she'd heard it. And acting on instinct, she stood on her tip toes and kissed him softly. Natasha whistled lowly, and Colin made a scandalized gasping sound. Bentley punched him lightly in the arm. "We'll write you, darling" Colin promised for all of them. Her father and stepmother were waiting patiently by the train. She quickly hugged them and ran off to get on the train. The trio watched as their song bird boarded the train and left._

She sucks in air sharply, her eyes bulge and fill with tears. Her mouth opens wide, and she screams. The sound is all at once filled with rage and horror. She backs away, hitting the wall and sliding down. Bringing her knees close to her chest, "I want…I want…I need to find them!" she suddenly wails, scrambling for the door. "I need to find them and then e-everything will be okay! I need to get back to them! He won't get me if I'm with them!"she wrenches open the door, running out in the rain. "Annabeth! Come back, sweetie!" But Annabeth is too fast. Tearing down the street in nothing but her mint green flannel pajamas. Luanne has weak knees, she can't follow her.

Annabeth's mind is tangled web, she can't tell where she is or why she's running so hard but she can't stop. She wants to scream but there's no sound inside her throat. He's alive. Alex is alive. She needs to go back home, far away from this city and from him. She needs to go back to her mama Natasha and her fabulous Colin and the dashing Bentley. She needs to be in their arms again. But the logical part of her mind reminds her of the ugly truth; Natasha hates her. Colin killed himself. And Bentley…Bentley is addicted to heroin, he's never been the same. They were supposed to live happily ever after together, all live in the same neighborhood, and be best friends forever.

She knew all of this and yet she was still running. Tears streaming down her face; and the weight of all those times Alex had forced her to tell her friends that she was fine; that Alex wasn't forcing himself on her on a regular basis and beating her with his black cane for his own amusement. All those times she'd been too numb to answer their phone calls. All those times Natasha had screamed at her over the phone message recorder, demanding to know why she was ignoring them. Alex smirking as her friends began to loathe her for her cold, distant behavior and neglectful tendencies.

"_Why aren't you answering my calls? Are you okay?"_

"_I'm fine Natasha. I just, I'm not really feeling well. Goodbye"_

"_Hold the fuck up. I know your 'I'm about to vomit' voice versus your 'something is seriously wrong and I'm just pretending to be okay' voice. So tell me what the hells wrong. Now."_

"_I said I was fine Natasha"_

"_Then why the hell aren't you picking up the damn phone? Why won't you call any of us back? Bentley got his book published, do you even fucking care? And Colin, he's auditioning for the musical. What the fuck is up with you, Annie? Why don't you care anymore?" _

"_Natasha, please…it's more complicated than you think, I…I'm __**scared**__…"_

"_scared? Of what baby girl?"_

"_I d-don't…I don't know how to say this—u-um, Natasha! I said I was fine, okay? I have to go."_

"_What? Uh…alright then. Colin's willing to pay for your ticket for the musical by the way"_

"_I can't go, Natasha"_

"_Right. Whatever. I'm so sick of this, bye"_

She's shivering now. It's so cold. There's something warm covering her. A jacket, but the moment the scent wafts into her nose there is no comfort or safety. Only paralyzing horror. This jacket belongs to Alex Delarge.

"I've missed you so much, little sister of mine"

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**Please Review**


	10. FORCED

The Wolf & The Lamb

Thank you so much DemonBarber14, Bibliophilechild, and TheWeasleyBoys

Weasley: I have read the PM and I'll look at my books this weekend :) you want a diagnosis for Billy Boy? I'll read through Ahab of Dystopia as soon as I can.

TRIGGER WARNING: Non-Consensual Acts; **Oral**

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**::TEN::**

Her mouth flies open to let out a scream but all that comes out is a tiny metallic squeak, he wraps his arms around her waist and digs his fingernails into her hips, pushing the soaked material of her pajama top up just a little as his hands travel up her quivering stomach to cup her breasts. She manages a terror filled whimper, her knees buckling. "A-Ah…Al-Ale-A-A-…" she stutters, and she's sobbing too hard to even be able to say his name. She can't form any words, she can't scream for help. Her throat is caving in on itself and—this is not happening! Alex is dead. She closes her eyes and tries to ignore his lips on the side of her neck, his fingers pinching her nipples (she cries out in pain at this), his hips thrusting against her backside lightly but menacingly. "D-Don't…pl-puh…please…please! No" she cries, attempting to pull away from him but his grip is too strong and she's too terrified to put up a hard fight.

Alex brings his black cane around in front of her, smirking as she goes rigid at the sight. And she can't control her blubbering pleas, Incomprehensible sounds of horror and pleading. He chuckles and kisses her shoulder, the cane is horizontal and pressing against her lower stomach, pinning her against the front of his body. "Walk down that alley way, do you pony?" he growls into her ear. She obeys him, but when they're halfway there she makes a leap of faith. She swings her foot back, hitting his leg and he is startled enough to drop the cane. She bolts, taking long running leaps. Her heart is pounding. Luanne! She needs to get back to Luanne! Annabeth looks back, Alex is gone.

Is that good or bad? She can't tell, she's—**BAM!**

A force has just slammed into her from the right, knocking her to the ground. Pinning her down is a very angry Alex Delarge, his hand crushes her mouth. Her eyes are wide with terror as he lowers his face close to hers, and she squeezes her eyes shut and attempts to turn her face away from his. His grip is too strong. "Naughty, Naughty!" he rasps, curling his fist (OH GOD NO!) into her hair and yanking on it, forcing her head up and then slamming it back onto the concrete. She sees stars.

"Such a lovely, lovely rot you have little sister of mine. You're going to put it to real dobby use for me" he sneers, reaching down and unzipping his trousers. He sits on her waist, his weight pinning her down and driving the air out of her. He moves until he is sitting on her chest, and she shudders in disgust when his penis hits her chin; not completely hard because this is not about sex. It's about dominating and hurting and having power over her. "Suck it, you filthy little whore" he sneers, his eyes bright with sickening excitement and cruelty.

Her mouth opens, _just do what he says and maybe he won't hurt you_. "If you bite me, I'll tear you into malenky bits and pieces; right right?" he growls demonically at her before pushing his penis into her mouth. She knows her job, she sucks gently at first and runs her tongue along the underside of his shaft. Her mind is separating itself from what is happening, it's the only way she knows how to cope. Alex groans and begins to thrust into her mouth, she knows that means to suck harder. _You can get through this. Just shut yourself down and do everything he tells you. Don't fight back you'll only get hurt worse. It's just your body/dignity/humanity/rights it doesn't matter. _

He suddenly pulls out of her mouth and forces her to a kneeling position. Grabbing her hair in a painful grip, Alex begins to pound himself into her mouth. Forcing her to deep-throat him, and his raspy toned comments make her feel absolutely _**filthy**_ and _**horrible**_. "Ohhh, yessss darling. You like that, don't you my malenky bitch? You like sucking on that big cock" she can't breathe, her jaw is throbbing in agonizing pain. Her eyes burn with tears, her throat feels raw and it hurts. She can hear herself making the most horrible choking sounds, wet sounds. And now he's coming, and she tries desperately to pull away but his grip on her is too strong. His cum shoots down her throat, and she instinctively tries to spit it back out. "Swallow little devotchka" he hisses at her menacingly.

It burns her throat like acid and she can feel it like a disease in her stomach.

"We're walking down to my automobile, does thou pony? Attempt to run away from me again, and I will slit that pretty throat with my britva and gut you like the sweet little piggy-pig you are" he warns, kissing her on the lips and wiping off the excess cum from the corners of her trembling lips. They make it halfway to his car when she lands on her hands and knees, vomiting. He narrows his eyes, "Get up" he says meanly, "A-Alex please!" she whimpers, her anxiety is too much to handle. She can't bring herself to walk anymore. He swings his black cane, slamming it down onto her back. She screams out but nighttime swallows the sound. "Get up" he repeats, snarling at her in a low voice.

Annabeth drags herself back up to a standing position, her legs shaking. She gets into the passenger side of the car and he gets into the driver's side. "Buckle up my darling" he smirks at her and she obeys, "Annie-Beth, my love…?" he says and she looks at him, fearful. Alex backhands her hard enough for her vision to go completely black for fifteen seconds. She cups her cheek and leans against her door, curling up and trying to stifle her sobs. "I'm going to fuck you, little Annie-Beth. I'm going to make you creech to high heaven for like mercy and all that cal. I'm going to give it to you real horrorshow my darling"

They drive for hours and she's so exhausted and overwhelmed at sleep overtakes her.

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**Please Review**


	11. RAPE

**Thank you Bibliophilechild & DemonBarber14 *Hugs***

It gets more disturbing, of course

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**::ELEVEN::**

She is awoken by his fingers digging into her shoulder and shaking her, Her brain is fuzzy and disoriented. She gags weakly at the taste of him cum still lingering inside of her mouth. Her jaw feels rusty, like metal after a rainstorm. It hurts to open it. Her head lolls to the side and she sees an desolate theater, once grand and beautiful but now the windows are shattered and it looks like a nightmare. Then again, anywhere would look like a nightmare if she's alone with this monster.

Alex gets out first and, swinging his cane nonchalantly, comes to her side and opens the door. She recoils from him, he glares viciously at her and grabs her forearm in a violently hard grip, his fingernails digging hard enough to draw flecks of blood. She cries out as he yanks on her arm roughly, forcing her out of the car but being so violent that she loses balance and hits the ground hard. He grabs her hair and forces to stand up, "Walk" he hisses at her. Annabeth swallows her sob of pain as she massages her mistreated arm, it isn't broken or dislocated but he pulled a muscle.

Annabeth looks around desperately for an opening, for an opportunity to escape but there's nothing and Alex is ready for that now, there's no chance for her. His hand on her shoulder forces her to stop in her tracks, he pushes aside an old rug with his black boot to reveal a trap door. "Open it" she tries, but the door is too heavy and she's weak from emotional and physical exhaustion. "Oh do forgive me, my malenky darling, I'd quite forgotten how utterly useless thou are" he snarls meanly at her.

She looks up at him with a mixture of anger and hurt. Alex easily opens the door, and she recoils at the sight. It's pitch black down there, her heart beat is pounding. And she's crawling backwards, "No!" she pleads desperately, "No!" Alex stomps over like a nightmare from the depths of hell, grabbing onto the back of her neck and dragging her back to the trap door. "Alex pleeeease!" she screeches, clinging onto his leg and burying her face against him like a terrified child.

"Don't m-m-make me go down there!" Alex crouches down and pulls her into an embrace, "Aw, is my Annie-Beth poogly of the darky-dark hole? Hm? Does she want her bolshy great brother dearest to like protect her from the scary darkness?" she wants to rip his throat out, "Don't make me, Alex…please don't make me!" she pleads again. "You've been a baddiwad devotchka, haven't you?" he rasps into her ear before grabbing her upper arms and literally flinging her like a rag doll down the opening. His eyes roll back in his head in bliss at the sound of her blood curdling scream, followed by a sickening thud.

He pulls out the built in ladder and climbs down, Annabeth is sprawled on the concrete floor. It was an eight foot fall, not enough to kill her but enough to definitely hurt her badly. She rolls over onto her side and coughs up blood, her lungs are on fire. Alex switches on some lights, and she sees the room that she's a prisoner in now. There is a mattress in the corner, no blankets or pillows. There is chains attached to the opposite wall, there is only one window but there are iron bars and it's too small for a human to get through.

There is no hope.

She looks over and sees him undressing; her heart begins to pound again. She knew this was coming, but she can't help but feel _so utterly terrified and __**unprepared**_. He's slow about it, methodical. First he pulls down the white suspenders, and removes his white button up shirt, which he folds neatly and places on the floor. He isn't wearing a crotch protector, his clothes are soaked just like hers are. He pulls down his pants and folds them, setting them next to his shirt.

Annabeth's eyes dart to the trap door above, the ladder is still down. _**The ladder is still down!**_ She takes a chance, but the moment her feet are on the steps of the ladder, Alex's arm is around her throat, pulling her off of the ladder and into his arms. Her legs kicking in the air and her body twisting against him, her cries are unheard in this dark pit. Alex brings his other arm to cover her mouth, the arm around her throat is cutting off her air supply. He throws her down onto the floor and gets on top of her, his weight pinning her down.

Alex grabs her wrists pins them above her head with one hand, his other ripping the buttons clean off her flannel top; the sound of tearing fabric filling the air. His fingernails scratch her as he roughly pushes her top open to reveal her naked chest, you must keep in mind that a few hours ago Annabeth had planned on getting into bed, a few hours ago she thought Alex Delarge was dead. He stands up, grabbing her wrist and dragging her across the floor. Her bare back scrapes against the concrete and Annabeth lets out a blood curdling scream, Alex drags her kicking and screaming all the way across the room to the wall with the chains.

He quickly locks the cuffs around her wrists, there's only two available so her legs are free. She tugs on them desperately but their too tight, they cut into her skin. The chains are heavy. Alex grabs her thighs, "If you it's a drat thou wishes for, it's a drat you will get. But I'm going to give you what you deserve, my darling, real savage whether you like it or not." He lowered his body completely down on hers, his powerful form flush against her trembling body. Annabeth is too scared to fight back as he reaches down to pull down her underwear, her eyes stare straight up at the ceiling as he begins to work himself over her shaking and still body.

Alex crushes his body down on hers, and he kisses her hard on the lips. He puts one hand on either side of her head, squeezing her head in a tight grip as he kisses her roughly. Annabeth sobs against his mouth, it feels like he's devouring her not so much kissing her. And she screams when he bites down her tongue, filling their mouths with her blood. He trails his kisses along her throat, and he bites down again, raking his teeth across her throat and causing the blood to smear down between her heaving breasts. Alex keeps on kissing, licking, sucking, and biting down on her flesh. He bites hard enough to make her bleed each time, and now he's between her legs.

"There it is, the sign of my territory" he mutters as his fingers trace the faded scars of his first initial that he'd burned into her skin. Alex grabs her breasts and without warning, slams his penis into her unprepared and unwilling body. Annabeth's back arches off of the floor and Alex wraps his arm around her to keep her upright as he pounds his hips into hers over and over again.

His mouth sucks painfully hard on her nipple, and she is screaming in pain. He lets go and her upper body hits the floor, but he gets on his knees so he can get deeper into her. Driving his penis into her so hard that her vision is going fuzzy with disorientation and pain, "Stop!" she screams out desperately. "You're mine!" he practically roars at her like some sort of demonic entity from hell.

Alex grabs her hips and continues to slam into her, forcing himself all the way to the hilt and not giving her body the chance to even attempt to cope with the violent intrusion. His thrusts are hard enough to make her slide along the floor. He suddenly grabs her ass, forcing her bruised and debased womanhood even closer to his penis. Alex buries his face in her neck as his hands squeeze her butt and his penis slides in and out of her, Annabeth sobs and writhes in agony beneath him. Alex groans as he releases his load into her body. He pulls out of her and stands up, his penis covered in his cum and her blood.

He slowly gets dressed again, "I have to itty off now, my darling dearest. Don't try to escape, there's no way out and nobody is ever going to find you. Now, give thou dear brother a kiss on the rot before he leaves" Alex sneers, undoing her chains. She stands up on extremely shaky legs and kisses him weakly, Annabeth goes limp against him. His arms are around her waist, it's a sadistic mockery of a lover's embrace. And when she hits the ground in a faint, he smirks sadistically and kisses her forehead. And he leaves her unconscious body there in the darkness.

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**Please Review**


	12. WILD

The Wolf & The Lamb

Thank you DemonBarber14, Bibliophilechild, and TheWeasleyBoys

Warning: Filter Chapter/Extremely Short/Only a Flashback.

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_**::Memory::**_

_Annabeth and Bentley sat across from each other in the back of his truck, an old thing with chipped red paint and a bumped up bumper, their names along with Colin's and Natasha's carved just above the front right wheel, this truck was their escape from all the bullshit in their lives. They could just jump right on in and go anywhere they wanted, and it was freedom._

_Annabeth was the singer, the dreamer, and the lover of everyone and everything. Bentley was the musician, the poet, and had a laid back view of the world. Natasha was the tough sassy girl from the wrong side of the tracks, the lover of wild animals and the protector of those she loved. Colin was the theater geek, the musical movie buff, his smile was dazzling and his fashion was always on point._

_They fit perfectly together. Annabeth's rebellious years, if you will, started when she was thirteen years old. That was when she met Natasha, who was fifteen and part of a female gang. Natasha was cold towards her at first but came to like the young girl's tenderness and consideration for other people, and it was Natasha who helped Annabeth tap into her musical talents. They stayed up all night, Natasha would sneak her out of her house and they'd go skinny dipping in the dark, running from the cops because that was against the law; both of them screaming the whole time and laughing._

_They'd been inseperable for three months straight when Bentley came into the picture, also thirteen like Annabeth was and it was he who introduced his neighbor; a boy named Colin, twelve years old. The rest was history, they would all drive for hours until the city of London was just a memory just so they could blast their music and dance around wildly, screaming and laughing and singing at the top of their lungs. They skipped classes, smoked cigarettes, listened to fast music, and exchanged dirty jokes and pretending to be completely scandalized, then they would laugh until their stomachs ached._

_But sometimes they'd just sit and enjoy the blissful silence, sometimes they'd even curl up in the back of the truck and fall asleep lulled by the sound of each other's breathing. Sometimes they cried, sometimes they critiqued each other's drawings/lyrics/poems. Annabeth would often hum or sing her favorite song while stroking Colin's hair or sitting beside Bentley as he tuned his guitar. _

"_**Strawberries cherries and an angel's kiss in spring/My summer wine is really/ made from all these things/Take off your silver spurs and help me pass the time/And I will give to you summer wine/Ohhh-oh summer wine…"**_

_They pricked their fingers with needles and made blood oaths to always be friends, never give up on their dreams, and kick ass until the die they died. But then everything just…_

_fell apart._

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**Please Review**


	13. REBEL

DemonBarber14, TheWeasleyBoys, and Bibliophilechild

Thank you guys so much for the support, I'm sorry if I don't update every single day anymore. Life is just getting very busy, I've had a stressful past few weeks and have suffered through three separate meltdowns/panic attacks. I struggle with depression and anxiety so I'm supposed to look into Cognitive-Behavioral Therapy this summer/year. I'm not sure if I want to be a writer, a singer, a psychologist, or what. But until that time comes, I'm just going to enjoy writing for you lovely people.

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::THIRTEEN::

_**Annabeth**_

"_**..And my memories of them are the only things that sustained me, and my only real happy times…I once had dreams of becoming a beautiful poet, but upon a series of unfortunate events; saw those dreams dashed and divided like a million stars in the night sky, that I wished on over and over again, sparkling and broken." –**Lana Del Rey's Opening Monologue from "Ride"_

My rebel years, I suppose you could call them, happened when I was thirteen. That was when I met Natasha. Tough as nails, sharp tongued, and beautiful Natasha from the Bronx; she loved to box, eat barbeque, and watch movies that were so bad you couldn't help but love them for it. It's hard to believe that we became best friends, practically sisters really, but we did. She was older than me and I thought she was the coolest person ever, when Natasha dyed her hair pink so did I. When Natasha said 'fuck the education system' and skipped class to go riding her bike down a long dirt path, I followed.

Natasha taught me to not be scared of my body, to accept my heavier bust and my thickness. I wasn't overweight or anything, but I had a tummy and my body had grown to fast during those development years, resulting in hideous stretch marks on my thighs, stomach, and even breasts. I hated looking into the mirror naked, I felt so disgusting. Natasha took me to the gym to exercise, when I saw my weight on one of the machines I was shocked, I was a lot heavier than I thought I was. I locked myself in a bathroom stall and tried to make myself throw up.

I've never had bulimia, that was just a one-time attempt that did not work. Natasha hugged me and promised she'd help me get in shape, she said I'd be the hottest piece of ass in London and she slapped my behind when she said it making me laugh out loud through my tears. And she did, she worked me hard and I needed that. She knew when I'd reached my limit, she'd get me water and tell me how gorgeous my body was going to be. It was hard, but by another year I had made significant progress.

My stomach was almost completely flat, my thighs weren't as thick, and the blubber on my arms was almost` completely gone as well. I was an emotional eater, and with my father indifference and lack of warmth or affection and the absence of a mother; I was constantly high-wired. With Natasha, I was free. I could laugh and snort without being scolded by my father for being too loud, I could wear tank tops and show (Gasp) cleavage without being accused of being a whore, I could swear and tell dirty jokes and smoke cigarettes and howl at the moon like a wolf.

Later of course, I met Bentley. It wasn't attraction or love at first sight, he was just a boy with braces and shaggy blonde hair and bright sparkly green eyes, Natasha said he was in one of her classes (one of the few she cared to attend) Bentley wrote poetry, played the guitar, and had a slight southern accent. His family had come from South Carolina, and his accent would never go away. Natasha forced us to 'collaborate' Bentley on the guitars and me on the vocals. Natasha had always wanted to learn to play the electric keyboard, and she filled our heads with wild dreams of being the number one group in the country, our names up in lights, people chanting out names.

But that never happened, we were okay with that. We loved life, we loved driving for hours just to stop in the middle of nowhere; us girls in our flow-y tops and denim short-shorts, running around and screaming because we were young and restless. Blasting our songs and rolling down the hills because we were free and nobody could tell us no; I grew up with these people. I grew up laughing and screaming and believing and dreaming. I grew up determined, excited, and strong.

Bentley's next door neighbor was Colin, the boy who forced me into a world of Broadway show tunes, pop culture from the 1920s-1960s, musical films, and fashion. And I love him for it, Natasha and Bentley just rolled their eyes playfully at us whenever we'd go off on another Broadway tangent. We swore we'd move to New York City together and became rich and famous and get all the hot sexy men. We even pinkie swore, but then I decided I didn't like the idea of being on Broadway. I wanted a record deal, I wanted to be like ABBA not Bernadette Peters, as much as I loved her of course.

Colin understood perfectly, and he along with Bentley helped me write many of the songs that I was adamant would be on my first record deal. Natasha helped me brainstorm the cover art and the title, this was real you guys. I believed so much that I was going to live a long and happy life, I believed that Natasha would become a champion in boxing, Bentley would become a poet, Colin would become a star on the stage, and I would sell a billion records and have millions of die-hard fans. That was what was supposed to happen, that's what should have happened.

And then the monster came along

Now I'm trapped down here in this dark cellar, my whole body aches with pain. He came back for me just an hour ago I think, maybe it was eight hours or a day or a year. I can't tell anymore, I'm so hungry. My throat is burning because it's so dry, I can taste his semen though and it's making me dry heave. There is blood caked on my legs, some of it's still wet. He fisted me this last time. I tried to get away but he was too strong, and nobody heard my screams.

As he slammed his entire fist into my vagina, ripping my walls apart and hurting me, over and over and over again I went away. I closed my eyes and went back to denim short-shorts, laughter, and dirt roads. I shut him out, despite the physical agony I was going through as he climbed on top of me and pushed himself into my abused womanhood, I shut him out mentally and refused to let myself fade away like I had before. I could get through this, I could get through this, I can't get through this it hurts it hurts oh please, I could get through this just fine.

I've tried to stand up a few times only to collapse onto the floor again, Alex threatened to "slice off those pretty lips if you even entertain the thought of like escaping, my darling. And I don't mean the lips on your sladky listo either" I shudder and hug myself, he would do something unspeakable like that. I miss Luanne, I miss my friends. They all think I hate them, Colin thought I hated him and that thought had been in his head when he'd thrown himself over the edge of a building.

The echo of the girl, full of dreams and love and a sense of freedom, I once was is sleeping in glass box protected by the memories of people who once loved her and brought her tenderness and humor not cruelty and violence. I know this is all my fault, I must have done something horrible in a past life. When I close my eyes, when I pull away from this reality I can almost feel Natasha pressed against my back; I can smell the popcorn in the microwave and hear the Scooby doo theme song in the background, but then Alex's voice shatters the dream.

I whimper and crawl backwards, attempting foolishly to hide from him. There is nowhere to run, and now he's here. He is a thousand feet tall and million feet wide, he is a nightmare and I can't wake up. When he comes at me, his hands clamp down on my wrists like iron clamps and he drags me; half crawling and half limp, across the concrete floor. He picks me up suddenly, his forearm cradled under my knees and the other around my back, his thumb digging into the side of my breast.

"Tell me your my malenky whore, go on say it you slut" he says to me, I keep my shut. His eyes darken and suddenly I'm hitting the floor, hard. He kicks me square in the face, I see red exploding and I try to crawl away. Something strikes me across my back, I scream. I don't need to look to see what that was. I am well acquainted with Alex's black disciplining cane, thank you very much. "You're a whore, say it" he demands, but I won't open my mouth. He hits me again, tears are streaming down my face. "Hey, hey, shhh shhh shhh. Oh darling, It's okay don't boo-hoo-hoo now, all you have to do is say '_Alex, I'm a filthy malenky whore and I want you to fuck me raw because I belong to you and nobody else_' and I'll stop hurting you" he sneers at me.

But something inside of me is refusing to comply, and my eyes travel up to meet his. The word, tiny as it is, is the first moment of my defiance and it scares me in a weird way. My voice is weak, but not pleading, my eyes are on fire. I look up at Alex and I say to him.

**No**

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Please Review


	14. HELL

Thank you so much DemonBarber14 and Bibliophilechild for being so wonderful ^^

Trigger Warning: Graphic Rape/Non-Con

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**::FOURTEEN::**

It's a word. That's all it is, in fact it's one of the very words we learn in our lives. But it feels strangely…_**new**_ on her tongue despite the fact that there really isn't as much power behind it as she hoped. There isn't a sudden burst of bravery or sense that what Alex is doing is wrong and that she deserves better, the word just came out of her like there was something inside that _**wanted**_ to burst through and fight back without her consent. Now she is terrified, the moment of bravery (if you could call it that) is gone and she's trying desperately to either get it back or keep Alex calm enough to where he won't hurt her too badly, though she knows it's in vain. Alex lives off of power and the punishment for even _**attempting**_ to take away that power or regain it for one's self is dire.

She remembers his droogs, before he'd been sent to jail for murdering the cat lady. Yes, Alex had not in fact gone to prison for anything he'd done to her but for the accidental murder of a woman who's house he was robbing. To her shame and horror she'd almost felt grateful that it had happened, because he was going straight to jail and he'd be in there for a long time. And she knew that she would be okay, everything would be bright and happy. But then the flashbacks kept happening and she could not escape from him inside of her own mind. Annabeth attempted to talk to her father about it but he refused to listen claiming that she was being selfish for talking so poorly about such a fine young man.

And when she pointed out that he had murdered somebody and…hit her (she didn't dare tell him the true horrors Alex had inflicted on her) he rolled his eyes and said that the murder was an accident and that his horrible friends had put him up to it, and for the hitting he merely shrugged it off and said that she was probably just being over dramatic as usual. So the fear and self-hatred and anger and agony inside of her got worse and worse. There was nobody to turn to, nobody who cared for her. And maybe that was her fault, she did push people away from her. At the same time hoping that they would ignore her tantrums and anger and stick around to help her. And Luanne Norbury was the first one who did.

With Norbury she could almost see herself…not so broken. She started remembering all those wild adventures from her youth, skinny dipping under the moonlight, dancing to rock and roll in the middle of nowhere, Bentley teaching her how to ride a Harley Davidson. With Luanne, Annabeth could look past the horror, even if just for a few moments, and see herself dancing and laughing and howling and singing. She could remember the taste of vanilla coke and chocolate ice cream, she could recall the roar of a crowd after a finished song, and the taste of Bentley's lips when he first kissed her by the tire swing.

Now she is trying to remember all of that, to use it as something to give her strength. She can't tell if it's working, she's too scared. Alex squats down and grabs her chin in an iron grip, she's trying to find the old Annabeth; the strong Annabeth who punched Harrison Brownfield right in his ugly face after she found out he was bullying Colin for being gay. But the old Annabeth died the moment this monster tied her down and rammed his penis violently into her unprepared and unwilling body. "Does thou care to repeat that slovo, my darling devotchka?" he snarls at her, his eyes narrow and filled with black fire.

"I-I…I d-didn't mean it, I wasn't thinking Alex. I'm s-so, I'm sorry Alex" she apologizes and tries to scoot back but his grip is too strong. "Oh no no no, my sladky Annie-Beth. You remember the punishment for disobeying Uncle Alex, right right?" she whimpers and tears fill her eyes, she starts to shake. "No" she squeaks, and the tears are already rolling down her cheeks. She shakes her head back and forth, "Please Alex, please don't. I won't disobey you again, I promise!" she sobs but he's already flinging away the crotch protector around his waist and pulling down the suspenders. He grabs her hair and yanks on it forcing her onto her hands and knees, Annabeth tries to crawl away but his foot comes crashing down on the small of her back, pinning her down. "Alex, please! Don't do this!"

She wishes she was strong enough to fight back harder but she's frozen with terror, he pulls down her panties and spreads her cheeks, his fingernails digging into the flesh. "Such a beauteous malenky pussy" he growls and places biting, open mouthed kisses on her ass cheeks. Her face is burning with humiliation and fear and anger. Annabeth jumps with a squeak when he feels his tongue probing and licking and sucking at her anus and vagina. It should feel pleasurable according to all the things she'd been told but she just feels dirty and filthy and scared.

Alex palms her ass cheeks greedily and moves up her body to place biting kisses on the back of shoulders and back, his wraps around his arm around her waist and without warning rams his penis into her anus. Even if she tried to she wouldn't be able to hold back her blood curdling scream of pain, her whole shakes from the force of the penetration and she's sobbing violently. Her fingernails claw at the concrete, and _oh god this __**hurts**_. She feels him slowly slide out, and she inhales sharply hissing from the discomfort and pain. "You're so _**tight**_" he growls huskily, pushing back in with a deep groan.

And now he's pounding his entire length into her, pushing in and out hard and fast. His hand rubs at her crotch, and perhaps in another life it would feel pleasurable but here it just hurts. His palms are rough and she is completely dry save for the blood trickling down her abused lips. He pushes his fingers inside of her unwilling body and wiggles them around as he simultaneously pounds into her from behind. He has only raped her anally twice before. The first time was a year into their "relationship" and the second was two months before he'd been thrown in jail for the accidental murder of Alice Weathers.

He thrusts into her so violently her knees scrape back and forth on the concrete, ripping the skin and adding to her agony. She wishes, as she always does, that he was at least small down there. If he was poorly endowed it wouldn't hurt so much would it? but Alex's conceited and narcissistic nickname "Delarge" is not a lie in the slightest. He makes sure that she feels him, every inch of his nine inch weapon piercing her over and over. "You're enjoying this aren't you, thou filthy malenky bitch!" he barks at her and she can picture him grinning like a mad, rabid bull dog at her pain and humiliation.

Annabeth can't say anything, she can barely breathe. His hand leaves her vagina to wrap itself around her throat, choking her as he pushes inside of her even harder. Her vision is going fuzzy, Alex pulls out and barks at her to keep her face up. And he makes her open her mouth to swallow his cum, pumping himself almost violently until he unravels and sprays himself on her breasts, face, and into her mouth. His cum mixes with the tears on her face and she gags, her punishment for daring to do such a thing is a kick to the abdomen. "Swallow" he hisses at her, and Annabeth obeys.

She wipes off the excess as best as she can while he redresses himself. She limps back over to her mattress, "A-Alex?" she says, her voice hoarse from screaming. He raises an eyebrow at her, "I-If…if I'm a…If I'm a g-good girl, will you…I m-mean, c-can you p-please…be n-nicer?" she whispers, hugging herself. He smirks and walks towards her, Annabeth whimpers and tries to craw away but he grabs her arm and spins her around pinning her against the wall. Her legs are still shaking.

"You're worthless Annabeth. You don't deserve to be treated with kindness, you deserve to be fucked with ultra-violence, my darling. You belong to me, you have no choice. And I will never let you go"

He kisses her forehead almost gently, "I hope you burn in hell" she whispers at him. Her voice is weak but the hatred is unquestionable. He smiles, "I'm sure I will someday, my darling."

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	15. YOUNG

**It's my baby's birthday today! :D Happy 70th Birthday Malcolm! *Kisses***

Thank you DemonBarber14 {I have seen Tank Girl :D and by "seen" I mean skimmed through and watched only the sexy!Malcolm scenes}, Bibliophilechild, and Weasley for the awesome reviews :)

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::FIFTEEN::

_**All my friends tell me I should move on/I'm lying in the ocean singing your song/loving you forever can't be wrong/even though you're not here/won't move on/and there's no remedy for memory/your face is like a melody/it won't leave my head/your soul is haunting me/and telling me that everything is fine/but I wish I was dead/Every time I close my eyes/it's like a Dark Paradise/no one compares to you/I'm scared that you won't be waiting on the other side. **_–Lana Del Rey

_Electric_

Yes, that was the perfect word to describe our life and our world. She was sixteen; wild and free and beautiful. The world had so much to offer her and her "partners in crime". The four of us weren't afraid of the dark anymore; we were restless and hungry for the beautiful things in life.

_And my Annabeth_…my Annabeth was young and she was crazy, she was electric, she was scared, she was vivacious, she was childish, she was indecisive, she was all over the place, she was lazy, she was insightful and intelligent, she was funny, she was real sad sometimes, but she was strong, she was warm, she was gentle, she was quick-witted, and she was my world

Yes, you heard right. She was my world. I had a tendency to overthink things and stress myself out, whether it be over school work, my poetry, my family, or just life in general. But Annabeth would ride her baby blue beach bike to my school, wait for me, and we'd go down by the lake to drink Vanilla Cokes and have burping contents until we were laughing so hard we cried. She reminded me how to take a deep breath, how to taste everything, she taught me that it was okay to be confused and scared sometimes. Our favorite hangout was in the garden of some old abandoned house near my apartment.

We had plans, to buy that house and make it beautiful. And we'd bring the garden back to life, Annabeth said we'd make up some tragic lovely story for it just like "The Secret Garden" which happens to be her favorite book in the entire world, just in case you wanted to know. We found an old tire in a junkyard and some rope, I made a tire swing. Our garden belonged to us, not Colin or Natasha. We loved them both, don't get me wrong. But the garden and the old mansion was mine and Annabeth's.

I was going to be a writer, a novelist and a poet. Annabeth was going to be a platinum selling vocalist, with billions of adoring fans. We'd fix up the old mansion, make it "gorgeous" in Anna's words, revive the garden, and have exotic pets. These were my dreams, I can't speak for Anna. I loved her, I wanted to spend my life with her, she was my best friend and my first love. But, she started putting up walls and I don't know why. She stopped answering my calls, stopped calling me on my birthday to sing obnoxiously "Goood Morrrrniiiing Staaar shiiiiine! The Earth says Hellllloooh!" She stopped caring about me, Natasha, and Colin. She wiped us out of our lives like we meant nothing.

And when we lost our song bird, when we lost the glue of our group everything fell apart. I'm not even sure how it happened, but my friendships with Natasha and Colin became dysfunctional and bitter. And pretty soon none of us were talking to each other. And I didn't realize how much I still loved them and cared for them until I read about Colin plunging off a building in the newspaper after he was continuously harassed by a group of ignorant frat boys for his sexuality; Colin was a strong person so I can only imagine what they must have done to make him feel like he had to kill himself to escape from it. When I read that he'd committed suicide I sobbed for days, he was like my brother.

I have no idea what's become of Anna or Natasha, all I know is I am alone. There is no tough, sharp-tongued Natasha, no stylish and sassy Colin, and no sweet and funny Annabeth; there is nobody left. The drugs make everything go away, they don't make me happy but they make me forget even if just for a moment. So I keep taking them over and over again. I know it's destroying me, but there's nobody to stop me so why stop at all? I haven't written any poems or stories for years. But you're asking me, if I regret my friendships with these people—considering the pain it's caused these days…my answer is no.

Those were the happiest years of my life, we were young and we didn't give a shit. We were innocent, we were free, we were stupid, we were brave, we were electric, and we were dreamers. We were at that age where we thought we knew everything, we were naïve. Yes, we were strong but we were weak to. I can't recall how many times Anna would sob in my arms after her father said something horrible to her. I hated the bastard, I still do. Wait, there's a knock on my door. I haven't showered in four days, I don't know if I'm handsome anymore. I suppose I used to be, maybe if I showered and shaved…

I open the door and there's a woman standing there, she's older but her eyes aren't dead and dull like most older people's. She's dressed nicely, not in a "ha-ha-I'm loaded-and-your-poor" kind of way mind you but just nicely. "Hello, am I speaking to er…Bentley?" she asks, and now I see it the shaking in her hands. Does she have arthritis or something? "Uh, yeah you are" okay lady what are you selling? Avon beauty products probably, "So um, look if you're selling beauty stuff I'm sorry but there's no girls here"

She shakes her head, "My name is Dr. Luanne Norbury and your friend Annabeth Holbrook has gone missing, I need your help. I've gone to the police but they won't do anything, I know who's taken her and unfortunately our corrupted government is adamant about protecting its reputation so they refuse to do anything about it. I need your help, I'm trying to find Natasha as well"

I just stare at her, "I can't help you lady, and what do I care if she's missing? Annabeth and I haven't seen or talked to each other for years now. She probably doesn't even remember who I am" my words come out sharp and cold but I can feel tears in my eyes, I blink them away. And she's looking at me with a mixture of hard judgment and pity. "She remembers you Bentley, it's the only way she survived what she did"

"Survived?"

"May I come in? we should sit down for this"

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**My cat sat on my laptop and left this message:**

Tttttttttbn `1qiks edw2 es1usy


	16. TRUTH

**DemonBarber14: **Thanks for the review!You're so sweet, and I totally agree that thinking about Malcolm does comfort me a great deal. He really is my hero, I love him a lot. I'm happy you enjoyed my Malcolm love fest yesterday, and I hope he had a really nice birthday of course.

**Bibliophilechild**: Oh goodness, thank you for the review . I had quite a giggle-snort fest when I read this, your reviews always put me in a good mood ^^ he is absolutely gorgeous, and I completely agree about the whole fanfiction thing. Oh God *shudder* e_e that would be my worst nightmare. You have a beautiful name by the way :D

**Weasley:** Thanks for the review, you're awesome. I'm also very happy that Luanne is assembling a team to go rescue Annabeth :D

Do you guys like the new profile pic? Isn't he so cute? :3 Remember to say cheese! ^_^

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::SIXTEEN::

**Bentley **

"You recall that Annabeth's stepfather remarried a woman named Sheila Burgess, yes?" she starts off, her eyes have bags under them. They're easier to see under the light, even the best foundation can't hide everything under the right light. Her eyes burn but not with joy or whatever, they burn with determination and anger and concern. "Yeah, she was a nice lady" I say and there is a moment of silence. "Are you aware that Annabeth suggested that she live with her stepbrother in his apartment so her father and his new wife could enjoy their home without any interference?"

I can't help but smile a little, "That sounds like Anna." I mused. And I remember now, all of us were at a carnival the summer before her stepdad married; and there was this little girl around four or five with messy pig tails tied with little pink ribbons, and she was wearing a purple floral print dress with white sandals. She was sitting by herself on a bench sobbing quietly. She looked scared, confused, lost, and a little angry. Natasha, Colin, and I didn't think it was right to interfere but Annabeth walked right up to her and sat down next to her. "Hi sweetie, my name's Annabeth. Can you tell me why you're so sad?"

She made it seem so easy and simple, I had a hard time with kids. It's not that I hated them or anything, sure they could be irritating sometimes but I usually found them funny and cute. I just didn't really know how to go about talking to them, you know? The little girl wiped her nose on her sleeve, and her voice was so soft and sweet "M-My daddy l-l-left me here by m-myself so h-he could spend time with…this lady, he s-said not to move and he's been g-gone for…f-for…forever and I w-want to ride on the Merry G-Go Round but I d-don't want to go b-by myself!" the girl wailed pitifully and strangely at that moment it didn't click in my head that her father had abandoned her to go have sex with a prostitute.

Now it makes me feel so sick, wondering what might have happened to that little girl. It's been years now, and I wonder if she realizes what her dad was doing when he'd leave her all by herself. She could have been kidnapped so easily, oh jesus it makes me sick. Annabeth understood right away what the girl's father had done and I could see the anger burning in her eyes. "My dad used to do the same thing to me, sweetie, he would go off with strange women for hours and leave me all alone. I got so scared sometimes but you know what helped me get through it?"

The little girl looked up at her like she was a holy angel sent from God with a proclamation from the kingdom of Heaven or something, "Knowing that somebody was out there who was just waiting to love me the way I deserved to be loved. Would you like me to sing you a song? I have a nice voice and my Nana used to sing to me when I was sad" the little girl nodded, sucking her thumb. "My name's Bella"

"That's a beautiful name, Princess Bella" Annabeth smiled at her, and the little girl suddenly moved to sit sideways in her lap. Later I would endlessly tease Annabeth, telling her that she should audition to be a princess at Disney World. And now, honestly, I think she was considering it. She would have been perfect for the job, and she could pull of Snow White, Cinderella, or Aurora perfectly. And then she started to sing to her and it was such a heartwarming thing to witness that I later had to punch a wall to feel manly again (no not really, please don't mind my sense of humor)

"_Be brave little one/make a wish for each sad little tear/hold your head up though no one is near/someone's waiting for you/don't cry little one/there'll be a smile where a frown used to be/you'll be part of the love that you seek/someone's waiting for you/always keep a little prayer in your pocket/and you're sure to see the light/soon there'll be joy and happiness/and your little world will be bright/have faith little one/till your hopes and your wishes come true/you must try to brave little one/someone's waiting to love you"_

Let's get to the present shall we? "Yes well, there's no easy way to say this but…Annabeth's stepbrother, Alexander Burgess…sexually, physically, and psychologically _tortured_ her on a _daily_ basis for _five years_. He raped her repeatedly, beat her with a black cane, sodomized her with his fist as a punishment, deprived her everything she loved, and dominated her completely. He intimated her to the point that she was forced to distance herself from you and her other friends. I don't know if he forced her or if she decided herself to protect you all or perhaps her own dignity."

What?

"Annabeth _never_ stopped loving you or Natasha or Colin, you _must_ understand Bentley; she was _trapped _both without and within. Her life during those five years was a _cage_ of torture, horrific abuse, domination, and cruelty. Alex _broke her down_ completely, he reduced what you remember as the electric, bold, _free_ Annabeth to a timid, pitiful, and submissive girl. He _terrified_ her, He abused her, He made her life a living _hell_. I'm sorry, I _know_ this is hard to hear but I _need_ you to understand, because he's taken her _again_ Bentley. I've been helping her with psychoanalytic therapy, we were doing pretty good but then…then we found out that the government _lied_ about Alex's execution"

…_What?_

"Alex kidnapped her, it's been three weeks now. I've been trying my hardest to find her, I'm asking for your help. She must feel so alone and scared, and I know he's doing…disgustingly horrible things to her as we speak." She grabs my hands, and I realize with a jolt that I am crying. My hands are shaking violently, and my stomach is knotting up. I feel like I'm going to vomit, my throat has gone completely dry. My mind struggles to figure out if there were _**signs**_ that I didn't notice at the time…yes. In hindsight it seems so painfully obvious, and I hate myself. I fucking hate myself for not realizing that something was wrong, for not rescuing my Annabeth from that monster.

"Do you think she's dead?" I ask her, my voice raw. She swallows, "No…he wouldn't kill her, he enjoys hurting her far too much." She says bitterly, I inhale sharply. "I'll do anything to help, anything at all."

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	17. SOCIOPATH

Thank You DemonBarber14, Bibliophilechild, and Rock-N-Roll-Suicide for the Reviews :D

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**::SEVENTEEN::**

"Oh, I have an idea" The beauteous devotchka like govoreeted towards my dear, gloopy em and her new husband (the devotchka's own father) with a bright chipper tone of voice. She was wearing a tank top made of light yellow lace and short denim shorts, just begging for me to throw her onto the ground and ravage her my brothers.

"I could live with Alex in his apartment, if he doesn't mind of course. I've always wondered what it'd be like to have a roommate, and with Alex's great taste in music I can't imagine it would be anything but wonderful" she put her rooker on my pletcho and squeezed it with a sladky smile on her pretty litso. I smiled at her, like a true gentle-chelloveck.

"I would be honored, my darling, to accept you into my humble domy" she then embraced me, the silly malenky fool. While my em and her new husband like went on about how it was like a real horroshow idea. She ran into her bedroom and started packing up all her stuff, while I leaned against the door frame and viddied her. I ran yahzick over my goobers as my eyes fell on her sladky ass in those shorts, she was like bending over and unaware of the filthy rotten thoughts running through my rassodock.

_That's right you malenky bitch. Bend over and let Uncle Alex give you the ol' in-out-in-out real savage._

She was singing some real starry tune while she packed, most of her platties were real feminine and sweet like. Lace, Floral-Print, Denim Shorts, Ruffles, mostly pastel colors that sort of thing. She put in some like special beloved possessions like a music box and an teddy bear, then slipped on silver sparkly ballerina flats onto her little feet. She was so little, standing at about 5'3'' in comparison to my 6'2'' but she was a passionate little thing. Beautiful and Free, happy and unafraid of life or people; I would destroy that part of her. And the malenky fool didn't even see it coming.

"Okay, let's go" she said, I reached down and picked up her suitcase. It was pretty light, my brothers, and I had it in the trunk of my car within five minootas. Her eemya was Annabeth, if you are wondering. She was sixteen years young, with long naturally curly strawberry blonde hair; smooth pale skin; plump lips; and real sladky big green-hazel eyes. She was curvaceous, with an hour glass figure, my only issue being the stretch marks on her stomach and breasts.

We drove for about four hours, Annabeth singing along to her Motown songs. She had a gorgeous warble but seeing her so happy, so full of like joy made me want to snap her neck like a twig. I wanted to see fear in those big glazzies of hers. I wanted to see her boo-hoo-hooing and whimpering in pain. My rookers like tightened on the steering wheel in anticipation, I'd spent a week unable to touch this sodding malenky bitch. Watching her as she danced to her James Brown music, wearing those sweat pants and tank tops without a bra and rolling her sladky hips to the rhythm slowly, unaware that I was like viddying everything through the hole in the guest room wall.

The bitch was asking for it.

She like hurried to the guest room, going on and on about painting the walls sky blue or rosy pink. She had like so many ideas, eager to start decorating and making it like all her own. "Hey, if you want I can make us potato leek soup, it's really delicious. My grandpa taught me how to make it" she said as she turned to face me, all of her clothes hung up. "That sounds real horrorshow, my love" I like govoreeted at her, smiling like a wolf at her. I couldn't wait to sink my teeth into this one.

"—and then Bentley tripped over his shoe lace and-…" It took me a moment to realize the little bitch was like govoreeting towards your humble narrator. I smiled and acted like I was paying attention to her story, "-…laughed and laughed, and I could tell he was embarrassed but he got over it, you know we're all best friends so there was really no need for h-…" I went behind her then, my friends, and wrapped my arms around her waist. She stopped talking and got all confused and unsure. I put my lips against her ear, "Keep your sodding rot shut. You're getting on my nerves"

She was like so shocked that she could not govoreet a single slovo. "You're in my domy now, little Annie-Beth, and there are like rules you viddy. I am the master and Bog of this domain, and therefore you belong to me. Disobey me and I will make thou life a living hell" I snarled like a wolf against the side of her pretty face. Annabeth made a small sound of anger and like she was appalled. And the silly fool had the nerve to try to push me away from her. I chuckled real dark, my brothers.

I forced her body to bend over, pressing my growing pan-handle against her sladky little ass and grinding hard against her. She kicked her legs but I pressed my own against them, rendering them immobile. I pushed her dress up as far as it could go and placed open mouthed biting kisses all over, smirking when she'd cry out as I bit too hard and drew blood. I got off of her and yanked her arm so she'd stand back up. "Don't forget about that soup, darling"

I gave her butt a good spank that made tears pop in her eyes and left her there all shaky and confused and like real scared of the boy she'd known as her loving bolshy brother.

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